THE  FORTUNES  OF  FIFI 


THE 

FORTUNES  OF  FIFI 


BY 

MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEAWELL 

The  Author  of  Francezka 

The  Sprightly  Romance  of  Marsac 

Children  of  Destiny 


THE  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 
T.  DE   THULSTRUP 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS  MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1903 
MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEA  WELL 

COPYRIGHT  1903 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


OCTOBER 
All  rights  reserved 


PRESS   OF 

BRAUNWORTH   &   CO. 

BOOKBINDERS  AND   PRINTERS 

BROOKLYN.   N.  Y. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I  THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER  1 

II  NUMBER  1313  31 

III  THE  GRAND  PRIZE  51 

IV  COURTSHIP  AND  CRIBBAGE  73 
V  A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES  90 

VI  THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED  113 

VII  A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING  140 

VIII  AN  OLD  LADY  AND  A  LIMP  161 

IX  BACK  TO  THE  BLACK  CAT  180 

X  THE  POPE  WINS  200 

XI  BY  THE  EMPEROR'S  ORDER  222 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  FIFI 


THE  FORTUNES  OF  FIFI 

CHAPTER  I 

THE    IMPERIAL    THEATER 

Although  it  was  not  yet  six  o'clock,  the  Novem 
ber  night  had  descended  upon  Paris — especially  in 
those  meaner  quarters  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine, 
where,  in  1804,  lights  were  still  scarce.  However, 
three  yellow  flickering  lamps  hung  upon  a  rope 
stretched  across  the  narrow  Rue  du  Chat  Noir. 
In  this  street  of  the  Black  Cat  the  tall  old  rickety 
houses  loomed  darkly  in  the  brown  mist  that 
wrapped  the  town  and  shut  out  the  light  of  the 
stars. 

Short  as  well  as  narrow,  the  Rue  du  Chat  Noir 
was  yet  a  thoroughfare  connecting  two  poor,  but 
populous  quarters.  The  ground  floor  of  the  chief 
building  in  the  street  was  ornamented  with  a  row 
of  gaudy  red  lamps,  not  yet  lighted,  and  above 

1 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

them,  inscribed  among  some  decaying  plaster  orna 
ments,  ran  the  legend : 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER. 
DUVERNET,  MANAGER. 


Imperial  was  a  great  word  in  Paris  in  the  month 
of  November,  1804. 

Across  the  way  from  the  theater,  at  the  corner 
where  the  tide  of  travel  turns  into  the  little  street, 
stood  Cartouche,  general  utility  man  in  the  largest 
sense  of  the  Imperial  Theater,  and  Mademoiselle 
Fifi,  just  promoted  to  be  leading  lady.  The  three 
glaring,  swinging  lamps  enabled  Cartouche  to  see 
Fifi's  laughing  face  and  soft  shining  eyes  as  he 
harangued  her. 

"Now,  Fifi,"  Cartouche  was  saying  sternly, 
"don't  get  it  into  your  head,  because  you  have  be 
come  Duvernet's  leading  lady,  with  a  salary  of 
twenty-five  francs  the  week,  that  you  are  Madem 
oiselle  Mars  at  the  House  of  Moliere,  with  the 
Emperor  waiting  to  see  you  as  soon  as  the  curtain 
goes  down." 

"No,  I  won't,"  promptly  replied  FifL 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

"And  remember — no  flirtations." 

"Ah,  Cartouche !" 

"No  flirtations,  I  say»  Do  you  know  why  Duver- 
net  made  you  his  leading  lady  instead  of  Julie 
Campionet  ?" 

"Because  Julie  Campionet  can  no  more  act  than 
a  broomstick,  and — 

"You  are  mistaken.  It  is  because  Duvernet  saw 
that  Julie  was  going  the  way  of  his  three  former 
leading  ladies.  They  have  each,  in  turn,  succeeded 
in  marrying  him,  and  there  are  three  divorce  cases 
at  present  against  Duvernet,  and  he  does  not 
know  which  one  of  these  leading  ex-ladies  he  is 
married  to,  or  if  he  is  married  at  all;  and  here  is 
Julie  Campionet  out  for  him  with  a  net  and  a  lan 
tern.  So  Duvernet  told  me  he  must  have  a  leading 
lady  who  didn't  want  to  marry  him,  and  I  said: 
'Promote  Fifi.  She  doesn't  know  much  yet,  but 
she  can  learn.' ' 

"Is  it  thus  you  speak  of  my  art?"  cried  Fifi, 
who,  since  her  elevation,  sometimes  assumed  a  very 
grand  diction,  as  well  as  an  air  she  considered 
highly  imposing. 

"It  is  thus  I  speak  of  your  art,"  replied  Car 
touche  grimly — which  caused  Fifi's  pale,  pretty 

3 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

cheeks  to  color,  and  made  her  shift  her  ground  as 
she  said,  crossly: 

"Everybody  knows  you  lead  Duvernet  around 
by  the  nose." 

"Who  is  'everybody'?" 

"Why,  that  hateful  Julie  Campionet,  and  my 
self,  and — and — 

"It  is  the  first  thing  I  ever  knew  you  and  Julie 
Campionet  to  agree  on  yet — that  the  two  of  you 
are  'everybody'.  But  mind  what  I  say — no  flirta 
tions.  Duvernet  beats  his  wives,  you  know;  and 
you  come  of  people  who  don't  beat  their  wives, 
although  you  are  only  a  little  third-rate  actress 
at  a  fourth-rate  theater." 

Fifi's  eyes  blazed  up  angrily  at  this,  but  it  did 
not  disturb  Cartouche  in  the  least. 

"And  you  couldn't  stand  blows  from  a  husband," 
Cartouche  continued,  "and  that's  what  the  women 
in  Duvernet's  class  expect.  Look  you.  My  father 
was  an  honest  man,  and  a  good  shoemaker,  and 
kind  to  my  mother,  God  bless  her.  But  sometimes 
he  got  in  drink  and  then  he  gave  my  mother  a 
whack  occasionally.  Did  she  mind  it?  Not  a  bit, 
but  gave  him  back  as  good  as  he  sent;  and  when 
my  father  got  sober,  it  was  all  comfortably  made 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

up  between  them.  But  that  is  not  the  way  with 
people  of  your  sort — because  you  are  not  named 
Chiaramonti  for  nothing." 

"It  seems  as  if  I  were  named  Chiaramonti  for 
nothing,  if  I  am,  as  you  say,  only  a  little  third-rate 
actress  at  a  fourth-rate  theater,"  replied  Fifi, 
sulkily. 

To  this  Cartouche  answered  only : 

"At  all  events,  there's  no  question  of  marrying 
for  you,  Fin,  unless  you  marry  a  gentleman,  and 
there  is  about  as  much  chance  of  that,  as  that  pigs 
will  learn  to  fly." 

"So,  I  am  to  have  neither  lover  nor  husband,  no 
flirtations,  no  attachments —  Fifi  turned  an  an 
gry,  charming  face  on  Cartouche. 

"Exactly." 

"Cartouche,"  said  Fifi,  after  a  pause,  and  ex 
amining  Cartouche's  brawny  figure,  "I  wish  you 
were  not  so  big — nor  so  overbearing." 

"I  dare  say  you  wish  it  was  my  arm  instead  of 
my  leg  that  is  stiff,"  said  Cartouche. 

He  moved  his  right  leg  as  he  spoke,  so  as  to 
show  the  stiffness  of  the  knee-joint.  Otherwise  he 
was  a  well-made  man.  He  continued,  with  a  grin : 

"You  know  very  well  I  would  warm  the  jackets 
5 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

of  any  of  these  scoundrels  who  hang  about  the 
Imperial  Theater  if  they  dared  to  be  impudent  to 
you,  because  I  regard  you  as  a — as  a  niece,  Fifi, 
and  I  must  take  care  of  you." 

Cartouche  had  a  wide  mouth,  a  nose  that  was 
obstinacy  itself,  and  he  was,  altogether,  remarka 
bly  ugly  and  attractive.  Dogs,  children  and  old 
women  found  Cartouche  a  fascinating  fellow,  but 
young  and  pretty  women  generally  said  he  was  a 
bear.  It  was  a  very  young  and  beautiful  woman, 
the  wife  of  the  scene  painter  at  the  Imperial  Thea 
ter,  who  had  called  attention  to  the  unlucky  simi 
larity  between  Cartouche's  grotesque  name  and  that 
of  the  celebrated  highwayman. 

Cartouche  had  caught  the  scene  painter's  wife 
at  some  of  her  tricks  and  had  taken  the  liberty  of 
giving  a  good  beating  to  the  gentleman  in  the  case, 
while  the  scene  painter  had  administered  a  dose  out 
of  the  same  bottle  to  the  lady ;  so  the  promising  lit 
tle  affair  was  nipped  in  the  bud,  and  the  scene 
painter's  wife  frightened  into  behaving  herself. 
But  she  never  wearied  of  gibing  at  Cartouche — 
his  person,  his  acting,  everything  he  did. 

In  truth,  Cartouche  was  not  much  of  an  actor, 
and  was  further  disqualified  by  his  stiff  leg.  But 

6 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

the  Imperial  Theater  could  scarcely  have  got  on 
without  him.  He  could  turn  his  hand  to  anything, 
from  acting  to  carpentering.  He  was  a  terror  to 
evil-doers,  and  stood  well  with  the  police.  Duver- 
net,  the  manager,  would  rather  have  parted  with  his 
whole  company  than  with  Cartouche,  who  received 
for  his  services  as  actor,  stage  manager,  and  Jack 
of  all  trades  the  sum  of  twenty-two  francs  weekly, 
for  which  he  worked  eighteen  hours  a  day. 

The  worst  of  Cartouche  was  that  he  always  meant 
what  he  said ;  and  Fifi,  who  was  naturally  inclined 
to  flirtations,  felt  sure  that  it  would  not  be  a  safe 
pastime  for  her,  if  Cartouche  said  not.  And  as  for 
marrying — Cartouche  had  spoken  the  truth — what 
chance  had  she  for  marrying  a  gentleman?  So 
Fifi's  dancing  eyes  grew  rueful,  as  she  studied 
Cartouche's  burly  figure  and  weather-beaten  face. 

The  night  was  penetratingly  damp  and  chill,  and 
Fifi  shivered  in  her  thin  mantle.  The  winter  had 
come  early  that  year,  and  Fifi  had  taken  the  money 
which  should  have  gone  in  a  warm  cloak  and  put 
it  into  the  black  feathers  which  nodded  in  her  hat. 
Pity  Fifi ;  she  was  not  yet  twenty. 

Cartouche  noted  her  little  shiver. 

"Ah,  Fifi,"  he  said.  "If  only  I  had  enough 
7 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

money  to  give  you  a  cloak!  But  my  appetite  is 
so  large!  I  am  always  thinking  that  I  will  save 
up  something,  and  then  comes  a  dish  of  beans  and 
cabbage,  or  something  like  it,  and  my  money  is  all 
eaten  up !" 

"Never  mind,  Cartouche,"  cried  Fifi,  laughing, 
while  her  teeth  chattered;  "I  have  twenty-five 
francs  the  week  now,  and  in  a  fortnight  I  can  buy 
a  cloak.  Monsieur  Duvernet  asked  me  yesterday 
why  I  did  not  pawn  my  brooch  of  brilliants  and 
buy  some  warm  clothes.  I  posed  for  indignation — 
asked  him  how  he  dared  to  suggest  that  I  should 
pawn  the  last  remnant  of  splendor  in  my  family — 
and  he  looked  really  abashed.  Of  course  I  couldn't 
admit  to  him  that  the  brooch  was  only  paste;  that 
brooch  is  my  trump  card  with  Duvernet.  It  always 
overawes  him.  I  don't  think  he  ever  had  an  ac 
tress  before  who  had  a  diamond  brooch,  or  what 
passes  for  one." 

"No,"  replied  Cartouche,  who  realized  that  the 
alleged  diamond  brooch  gave  much  prestige  to 
Fifi,  with  both  the  manager  and  the  company. 
"However,  better  days  are  coming,  Fifi,  and  if 
I  could  but  live  on  a  little  less !" 

The  streets  had  been  almost  deserted  up  to  that 
8 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

time,  but  suddenly  and  quietly,  three  figures 
showed  darkly  out  of  the  mist.  They  kept  well 
beyond  the  circle  of  light  made  by  the  swinging 
lamp,  which  made  a  great,  yellow  patch  on  the  mud 
of  the  street. 

All  three  of  them  wore  long  military  cloaks  with 
high  collars,  and  their  cocked  hats  were  placed  so  as 
to  conceal  as  much  as  possible  of  their  features. 
Nevertheless,  at  the  first  sight  of  one  of  these  fig 
ures,  Cartouche  started  and  his  keen  eyes  wandered 
from  Fifi's  face.  But  Fifi  herself  was  looking 
toward  the  other  end  of  the  street,  from  which  came 
the  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  and  the  rattle  of  a  coach 
in  the  mud.  It  came  into  sight — a  huge  dark  un 
wieldy  thing,  with  four  horses,  followed  by  a  couple 
of  traveling  chaises.  As  the  coach  lurched  slowly 
along,  it  passed  from  the  half-darkness  into  the 
circle  of  light  of  the  swinging  lamps.  Within  it 
sat  a  frail  old  man,  wrapped  up  in  a  great  white 
woolen  cloak.  He  wore  on  his  silvery  hair  a  white 
beretta.  His  skin  was  of  the  delicate  pallor  seen 
in  old  persons  who  have  lived  clean  and  gentle 
lives,  and  he  had  a  pair  of  light  and  piercing 
eyes,  which  saw  everything,  and  had  a  mild,  but 
compelling  power  in  them. 

9 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Fifi,  quite  beside  herself  with  curiosity,  leaned 
forward,  nearly  putting  her  head  in  the  coach 
window.  At  that  very  moment,  the  coach,  almost 
wedged  in  the  narrow  street,  came  to  a  halt  for  a 
whole  minute.  The  bright,  fantastic  light  of  the 
lamps  overhead  streamed  full  upon  Fifi's  spark 
ling  face,  vivid  with  youth  and  hope  and  confidence, 
and  a  curiosity  at  once  gay  and  tender,  and  she 
met  the  direct  gaze  of  the  gentle  yet  commanding 
eyes  of  the  old  man. 

Instantly  an  electric  current  seemed  established 
between  the  young  eyes  and  the  old.  The  old  man, 
wrapped  in  his  white  mantle,  raised  himself  from  his 
corner  in  the  coach,  and  leaned  forward,  so  close 
to  Fifi  that  they  were  not  a  foot  apart.  One  deli 
cate,  withered  hand  rested  on  the  coach  window, 
while  with  an  expression  eager  and  disturbing,  he 
studied  Fifi's  face.  Fifi,  for  her  part,  was  be 
witched  with  that  mild  and  fatherly  glance.  She 
stood,  one  hand  holding  up  her  skirts,  while  invol 
untarily  she  laid  the  other  on  the  coach  window, 
beside  the  old  man's  hand. 

While  Fifi  gazed  thus,  attracted  and  subdued, 
the  three  figures  in  the  black  shadow  were  likewise 


10 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

studying  the  face  of  the  old  man,  around  which 
the  lamps  made  a  kind  of  halo  in  the  darkness. 
Especially  was  this  true  of  the  shortest  of  the  three, 
who  with  his  head  advanced  and  his  arms  folded, 
stood,  fixed  as  a  statue,  eying  the  white  figure  in 
the  coach.  Suddenly  the  wheels  revolved,  and 
Fifi  felt  herself  seized  unceremoniously  by  Car 
touche,  to  keep  her  from  falling  to  the  ground. 

"Do  you  know  whom  you  were  staring  at  so 
rudely?"  he  asked,  as  he  stood  Fifi  on  her  feet,  and 
the  coach  moved  down  the  street,  followed  by  the 
traveling  chaises.  "It  was  the  Pope — Pius  the 
Seventh,  who  has  come  to  Paris  to  crown  the  Em 
peror;  and  proud  enough  the  Pope  ought  to  be 
at  the  Emperor's  asking  him.  But  that's  no  reason 
you  should  stare  the  old  man  out  of  countenance, 
and  peer  into  his  carriage  as  if  you  were  an  im 
pudent  grisette." 

Cartouche  had  an  ugly  temper  when  he  was 
roused,  and  he  seemed  bent  on  making  himself  dis 
agreeable  that  night.  The  fact  is,  Cartouche  had 
nerves  in  his  strong,  rough  body,  and  the  idea 
just  broached  to  him,  that  Fifi  would  have  to  go 
two  weeks  or  probably  a  month  without  a  warm 


11 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

cloak,  made  him  irritable.  If  it  would  have  done 
any  good,  he  would  cheerfully  have  given  his  own 
skin  to  make  Fifi  a  cloak. 

Fifi,  however,  was  used  to  Cartouche's  roughness, 
and,  besides,  she  was  under  the  spell  of  the  venera 
ble  and  benignant  presence  of  the  old  man.  So 
she  gave  Cartouche  a  soft  answer. 

"I  did  not  mean  to  be  rude,  but  something  in 
that  old  man's  face  touched  me,  and  overcame  me ; 
and  Cartouche,  he  felt  it,  too;  he  looked  at  me 
with  a  kind  of — a  kind  of — surprised  affection — 

"Whoosh !"  cried  Cartouche,  "the  Holy  Father, 
brought  to  Paris  by  his  Imperial  Majesty  the  Em 
peror  Napoleon,  is  surprised  at  first  sight  into  so 
much  affection  for  Mademoiselle  Fifi,  leading  lady 
at  the  Imperial  Theater,  that  he  means  to  adopt 
her,  give  her  a  title,  make  her  a  countess  or  I 
don't  know  what,  and  leave  her  a  million  of  francs." 

Fifi,  at  this,  turned  her  shapely,  girlish  back  on 
the  presumptuous  Cartouche,  while  there  was  a 
little  movement  of  silent  laughter  on  the  part  of 
the  three  persons  who  had  remained  in  the  little 
dark  street,  after  the  passing  of  the  Pope's  travel 
ing  equipage. 

Cartouche  had  not  for  a  moment  forgotten  the 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

face  of  the  one  he  recognized  so  instantly,  but  see 
ing  them  keeping  in  the  shadow,  and  having,  him 
self,  the  soul  of  a  gentleman,  forbore  to  look  to 
ward  them,  and  proceeded  to  get  Fifi  out  of  the 
way. 

"Come  now,"  said  he.  "It  is  time  for  me  to  go 
to  the  theater,  and  you  promised  me  you  would 
sew  up  the  holes  in  Duvernet's  toga  before  the 
performance  begins.  It  split  last  night  in  the  mid 
dle  of  his  death  scene,  and  I  thought  the  whole  act 
was  gone,  and  I  have  not  had  time  to-day  to  get 
him  a  new  toga ;  so  run  along." 

Fifi,  for  once  angry  with  Cartouche,  struck  an 
attitude  she  had  seen  in  a  picture  of  Mademoiselle 
Mars  as  Medea. 

"I  go,"  she  cried,  in  Medea's  tragic  tone  on 
leaving  Jason,  "but  I  shall  tell  Monsieur  Duvernet 
how  you  treat  his  leading  lady." 

And  with  that  she  stalked  majestically  across 
the  street  and  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 

One  of  the  group  of  persons  came  up  to  Car 
touche  and  touched  him  on  the  shoulder.  It  was 
the  one,  at  sight  of  whom  Cartouche  had  started. 
In  spite  of  his  enveloping  cloak,  and  a  hat  that  con 
cealed  much  of  his  face,  Cartouche  knew  him. 
13 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"Who  is  that  pretty  young  lady  with  whom  you 
have  been  quarreling?"  he  asked. 

"That,  your  Majesty,"  replied  Cartouche,  "is 
Mademoiselle  Fifi,  a  very  good,  respectable  little 
girl  who  has  just  been  made  leading  lady  at  Mon 
sieur  Duvernet's  theater  across  the  way." 

Cartouche,  although  thrilled  with  happiness,  did 
not  feel  the  least  oppressed  or  embarrassed  at  talk 
ing  with  the  Emperor.  No  private  soldier  did — for 
was  not  the  Emperor  theirs  ?  Had  they  not  known 
him  when  he  was  a  slim,  sallow  young  general, 
who  knew  exactly  what  every  man  ought  to  have 
in  his  knapsack,  and  promised  to  have  the  com 
pany  cooks  shot  if  they  did  not  give  the  soldiers 
good  soup  ?  Did  he  not  walk  post  for  the  sleeping 
sentry  that  the  man's  life  might  be  saved?  And 
although  the  lightning  bolts  of  his  wrath  might 
fall  upon  a  general  officer,  was  he  not  as  soft  and 
sweet  as  a  woman  to  the  rugged  moustaches  who 
trudged  along  with  muskets  in  their  hands?  And 
Cartouche  answered  quite  easily  and  promptly — 
the  Emperor  meanwhile  studying  him  with  that 
penetrating  glance  which  could  see  through  a  two- 
inch  plank. 

"So  you  know  me,"  said  the  Emperor.  "Well,  I 
14 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

know  you,  too.  It  is  not  likely  that  I  can  forget 
the  hour  in  which  I  saw  your  honest,  ugly  face. 
You  were  the  first  man  across  at  the  terrible  pas 
sage  of  the  bridge  of  Lodi." 

"Yes,  Sire.  And  your  Majesty  was  the  second 
man  across  at  the  terrible  passage  of  the  bridge 
of  Lodi." 

"Ah,  was  it  not  frightful !  We  were  shoulder  to 
shoulder  on  the  bridge  that  day,  you  and  I.  Your 
legs  were  longer  than  mine,  else  I  should  have 
been  across  first,"  the  Emperor  continued,  smiling. 
"Berthier,  here,  was  on  the  bridge,  too.  We  had 
a  devil  of  a  time,  eh,  Berthier?" 

Marshal  Berthier,  short  of  stature  and  plain  of 
face,  and  the  greatest  chief  of  staff  in  Europe, 
smiled  grimly  at  the  recollection  of  that  rush  across 
the  bridge.  The  Emperor  again  turned  to  Car 
touche;  he  loved  to  talk  to  honest,  simple  fel 
lows  like  Cartouche,  and  encouraged  them  to  talk 
to  him ;  so  Cartouche  replied,  with  a  broad  grin : 

"Your  Majesty  was  on  foot,  struggling  with  us 
tall  fellows  of  the  Thirty-second  Grenadiers.  At 
first  we  thought  your  Majesty  was  some  little  boy- 
officer  who  had  got  lost  in  the  melee  from  his  com 
mand  ;  and  then  we  saw  that  it  was  our  general,  and 
15 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

a  hundred  thousand  Austrians  could  not  have  held 
us  back  then.  We  ate  the  Austrians  up,  Sire." 

"Yes,  you  ate  the  Austrians  up.  Afterward,  I 
never  could  recall  without  laughing  the  expression 
on  the  faces  of  my  old  moustaches  when  they  saw 
me  on  the  bridge." 

"Ah,  Sire,  when  the  soldiers  came  to  themselves 
and  began  to  think  about  things,  they  were  in 
transports  of  rage  at  your  Majesty  for  exposing 
your  life  so." 

The  Emperor  smiled — that  magic  and  seductive 
smile  which  began  with  his  eyes  and  ended  with  his 
mouth,  and  which  no  man  or  woman  could  resist. 
He  began  to  pull  Cartouche's  ear  meditatively. 

"You  old  rascals  of  moustaches  have  no  business 
to  think  at  all.  Besides,  you  made  me  a  corporal 
for  it.  One  has  to  distinguish  himself  to  receive 
promotion." 

"All  the  same,"  replied  Cartouche  obstinately, 
"we  were  enraged  against  your  Majesty;  and  if 
your  Majesty  continues  so  reckless  of  your  life,  it 
will  be  followed  by  a  terrible  catastrophe.  The 
soldiers  will  lose  the  battle  rather  than  lose  their 
Emperor." 


16 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

The  Emperor  had  continued  to  pull  Cartouche's 
ear  during  all  this. 

"And  where  are  your  moustaches?"  he  asked. 
"And  do  you  still  belong  to  the  Thirty-second 
Grenadiers?  For  they  were  the  fellows  who  got 
across  first." 

Cartouche  shook  his  head. 

"I  did  not  get  a  scratch  at  Lodi,  your  Majesty; 
nor  at  Arcola,  nor  Castiglione,  nor  Rivoli,  nor  at 
Mantua ;  but  one  day,  I  was  ordered  to  catch  a 
goat  which  was  browsing  about  my  captain's  quar 
ters  ;  and  I,  Cartouche,  first  sergeant  in  the  Thirty- 
second  Grenadiers,  who  had  served  for  nine  years, 
who  had  been  in  seven  pitched  battles,  twenty-four 
minor  engagements  and  more  skirmishes  than  I  can 
count,  was  knocked  down  by  that  goat,  and  my  leg 
broken — and  ever  since  I  have  been  good  for  noth 
ing  to  your  Majesty.  See." 

Cartouche  showed  his  stiff  leg. 

"That  is  bad,"  said  the  Emperor — and  the  words 
as  he  said  them  went  to  Cartouche's  heart.  "Luck 
ily  it  did  not  spoil  your  beauty.  That  would  have 
been  a  pity." 

Both  the  Emperor  and  Cartouche  laughed  at  the 
notion  of  Cartouche  having  any  beauty  to  spoil. 
17 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"And  what  are  you  doing  now  ?" 

"I  am  an  actor,  your  Majesty,  at  the  Imperial 
Theater  yonder  in  this  street." 

"An  actor !  You !  One  of  my  old  moustaches ! 
What  do  you  know  about  acting?" 

"Well,  your  Majesty,  if  you  could  see  the  thea 
ter,  you  wouldn't  be  surprised  that  they  let  me  act 
in  it.  A  franc  the  best  seat — twenty  centimes  for 
the  worst — eating  and  drinking  and  smoking — 
and  cabbage-heads  thrown  at  the  villain,  who  is 
generally  an  Englishman." 

"But  how  do  you  manage  on  the  stage  with  your 
stiff  leg?" 

"Very  well,  Sire.  I  am  always  a  wounded  sol 
dier,  or  a  grandfather,  or  something  of  the  sort. 
And  I  do  other  work  about  the  theater — of  so 
many  kinds  I  can  not  now  tell  your  Majesty." 

"And  the  pretty  little  girl  is  your  sweetheart?" 

"No,  your  Majesty;  I  wish  she  were.  She  is 
not  yet  twenty,  and  really  has  talent;  and  I  am 
thirty -five  and  look  forty-five,  and  have  a  stiff  leg ; 
and,  in  short,  I  am  no  match  for  her." 

Cartouche  would  not  mention  his  poverty,  for  he 
would  not  that  money  should  sully  that  hour  of 
happiness  when  the  Emperor  talked  with  him. 
18 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

"What  docs  Mademoiselle  Fifi  think  on  the  sub 
ject?"  asked  the  Emperor. 

"She  does  not  think  about  it  at  all  yet,  your 
Majesty.  She  was  but  ten  years  old  when  I  took 
her.  It  was  at  Mantua.  Your  Majesty  remembers 
how  everything  was  topsyturvy  in  Italy  eight 
years  ago.  One  day  I  saw  a  child  running  about 
the  market-place,  calling  gaily  for  her  mother. 
The  mother  did  not  come.  Then  the  child's  cry 
changed  to  impatience,  to  terror  and  at  last  to 
despair.  It  was  Fifi.  The  mother  was  dead,  but 
the  child  did  not  know  it  then.  She  had  no  one  in 
the  world  that  I  could  discover;  so,  when  I  was 
started  for  France  in  a  cart — for  I  could  not  walk 
at  all  then — I  brought  Fifi  with  me.  She  was  so 
light,  her  weight  made  no  difference,  and  ate  so 
little  that  she  could  live  off  my  rations  and  there 
would  still  be  enough  left  for  me.  When  we  got 
to  Paris,  I  hired  a  little  garret  for  her,  in  yonder 
tall  old  house  where  I  live,  and  Fifi  lives  there  still. 
I  made  a  shift  to  have  her  taught  reading  and  writ 
ing  and  sewing,  and  never  meant  her  to  go  on  the 
stage.  However,  I  caught  her  one  day  dressed 
up  in  a  peasant  costume,  which  she  had  borrowed, 
acting  in  the  streets  with  some  strollers — a  desper- 
19 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

ately  bad  lot.  I  carried  Fifi  off  by  the  hair  of 
her  head — she  had  only  been  with  them  a  single 
day — and  frightened  her  so  that  I  don't  think  she 
will  ever  dare  to  follow  her  own  will  again ;  but  I 
saw  that  acting  was  in  her  blood,  so  at  last  I  got 
Duvernet,  the  manager,  to  give  her  a  small  place. 
That  was  a  year  and  a  half  ago,  and  to-day  she 
is  his  leading  lady." 

"And  you  are  not  in  love  with  her?" 

"I  did  not  say  that,  your  Majesty.  I  said  she 
was  not  my  sweetheart;  but  I  wish  I  were  good 
enough  for  her.  However,  Fifi  knows  nothing 
about  that.  All  she  knows  is,  that  Cartouche  be 
longs  to  her  and  is  ready  to  thrash  any  rogue,  be 
he  gentleman  or  common  man,  who  dares  to  speak 
lightly  to  her,  or  of  her,  for,  although  the  goat 
ruined  my  leg,  my  arms  are  all  right,  and  I  know 
how  to  use  them." 

"Fifi  will  be  a  great  fool  if  she  does  not  marry 
you,"  said  the  Emperor. 

"Your  Majesty  means,  she  would  be  a  great 
fool  if  she  thought  of  marrying  me — me — me ! 
Her  father  was  a  Chiaramonti — that  much  I  found 
out — and  my  father  was  a  shoemaker." 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

At  the  mention  of  the  name  Chiaramonti  the 
Emperor  let  go  of  Cartouche's  ear,  and  cried : 

"A  Chiaramonti!  And  from  what  part  of 
Italy,  pray?" 

"From  a  place  called  Cesena,  at  the  foot  of  the 
Apennines.  That  is,  the  family  are  from  there ;  so 
I  discovered  in  Mantua." 

"Do  you  know  her  father's  Christian  name?" 

"Yes,  your  Majesty — Gregory  Barnabas  Chia 
ramonti.  I  have  seen  Fifi's  baptismal  certificate  in 
the  church  at  Mantua." 

The  Emperor  folded  his  arms  and  looked  at  Car 
touche. 

"My  man,"  he  said,  "I  shall  keep  an  eye  on 
Mademoiselle  Fifi  of  the  Imperial  Theater — like 
wise  on  yourself ;  and  you  may  hear  from  me  some 
day." 

A  sudden  thought  struck  Cartouche. 

"Why  does  not  your  Majesty  go  to  see  Fifi  act 
to-night?  The  theater  is  in  this  street — yonder  it 
is,  with  the  row  of  red  lamps.  I  put  those  lamps 
up  myself.  I  am  due  at  the  theater  now,  and  if 
your  Majesty  has  not  the  price  of  the  tickets  with 
you  for  yourself  and  Marshal  Berthier  and  General 


THE   FORTUNES    OP   FIFI 

Duroc" — for  Cartouche  knew  both  of  these  well  by 
sight — "why,  I,  Cartouche,  as  stage  manager,  can 
pass  you  in." 

The  Emperor  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed, 
and  motioned  to  Bcrthier  and  Duroc  standing 
behind  him  to  come  nearer  to  him. 

"Listen,"  he  said  to  them — and  told  them  of 
Cartouche's  invitation,  and  accepted  it  with  great 
delight. 

Marshal  Berthier's  homely  face  lighted  up  with 
a  smile  at  the  notion  of  attending  a  performance 
at  the  Imperial  Theater  in  the  street  of  the  Black 
Cat.  General  Duroc,  silent  and  stolid,  followed 
the  Emperor  without  a  word,  exactly  as  he  would 
have  marched  into  the  bottomless  pit  at  the  Em 
peror's  command. 

"But  not  a  word  to  the  manager  until  we  leave 
the  house,"  said  the  Emperor, 

Cartouche,  walking  with  the  Emperor,  led  the 
party  a  short  distance  up  the  street  to  where  the 
gaudy  red  lamps  showed  the  entrance  to  the  Im 
perial  Theater.  Duvernet,  the  manager,  in  his 
shirt-sleeves,  was  engaged  in  lighting  these  lampsc 
He  called  out  to  the  approaching  Cartouche. 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

"Look  here,  Cartouche,  this  is  a  pretty  business, 
if  you  have  forgotten  my  new  toga.  You  were  to 
have  a  new  one  ready  for  me  to-night — I  can't 
feel  like  a  Roman  senator,  much  less  look  like  one 
in  that  old  rag  of  a  toga  I  wore  last  night.  It 
was  made  out  of  a  white  cotton  petticoat  of  Fifi's, 
and  she  had  the  impertinence  to  remind  me  of  it 
before  the  whole  company." 

"Hold  your  tongue,"  whispered  Cartouche  to 
the  manager,  coming  up  close ;  and  then  he  added, 
aloud:  "These  are  some  friends  of  mine,  whom 
I  have  invited  to  see  the  play  as  my  guests." 

.The  Emperor,  a  step  behind  Cartouche,  fixed  his 
eyes  on  Duvernct.  No  use  was  it  for  Cartouche  to 
refrain  from  mentioning  who  his  first  guest  was. 
Duvernet  turned  quite  green,  his  jaw  fell,  and  he 
backed  up  against  the  wall. 

"My  God !"  he  murmured.  "The  toga  is  a  reg 
ular  rag!"  and  mopped  his  brow  frantically. 

The  Emperor  evidently  enjoyed  the  poor  man 
ager's  predicament,  and  pushing  back  his  hat,  re 
vealed  himself  so  there  was  no  mistaking  him. 
Duvernct  could  only  mutter,  in  an  agony : 

"My  God!  The  Emperor!  My  God!  The 
toga !" 

23 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"Duvernet,"  said  Cartouche,  shaking  him,  "you 
behave  as  if  you  were  drunk." 

"Perhaps  I  am — oh,  I  must  be,"  replied  Duver 
net,  continuing  to  mop  his  brow. 

"Come,  Duvernet,"  said  the  Emperor,  laughing, 
"never  mind  about  the  toga.  I  am  not  going  to  eat 
you.  I  came  to  see  my  old  acquaintance,  Cartouche, 
whom  I  have  known  ever  since  we  met  at  the  end 
of  a  bridge  on  the  tenth  of  May,  1796.  And,  al 
though  I  have  enough  money  to  pay  for  myself 
and  my  two  friends,  I  accept  Cartouche's  invita 
tion  to  see  the  performance  as  his  guests.  He  has 
promised  us  the  one-franc  seats — don't  forget, 
Cartouche — nothing  under  a  franc." 

"Certainly,  Sire,"  replied  Cartouche.  "But  if 
Duvernet  doesn't  come  to  himself,  I  don't  know 
whether  we  can  have  any  performance  or  not ; 
because  }ie  is  the  Roman  senator  in  our  play  to 
night — a  tragedy  composed  by  Monsieur  Duver 
net  himself." 

Duvernet,  at  this,  brought  his  wits  together  after 
a  fashion,  and  escorted  the  party  within  the  thea 
ter,  and  gave  them  franc  seats  as  promised.  It 
was  then  time  for  Cartouche  to  go  and  dress,  but 
Duvernet,  not  having  to  appear  as  the  Roman 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

senator  until  the  second  act,  could  remain  some 
time  still  with  his  guests. 

Afterward  Duvernet  said  that  in  the  half-hour 
which  followed,  the  Emperor  found  out  all  about 
theaters  of  the  class  of  Duvernet's,  rent,  lighting, 
wages,  and  told  him  more  than  he  had  ever  known 
before  about  his  own  business.  But  Duvernet  was 
in  no  way  reassured,  and  his  complexion  was  yet 
green,  when  Cartouche,  peeping  through  a  hole 
in  the  curtain,  saw  him  still  talking  to  the  Emperor 
— or  rather  answering  the  Emperor's  questions. 

The  house  was  fast  filling.  It  held  only  five 
hundred  persons,  and  there  were  but  one  hundred 
seats  where  the  elite  of  the  patronage  paid  so  much 
as  a  franc;  and  even  these  seats  were  filled.  For 
tune  smiled  on  the  Imperial  Theater  that  night. 

Behind  the  curtain,  the  agitation  was  extreme ; 
the  Emperor  had  been  remembered  and  so  had 
Bcrthier  and  Duroc.  Everybody  knew  that  the 
Emperor  had  recognized  Cartouche,  had  walked 
and  talked  with  him,  had  pulled  his  ear,  and  had 
come  to  see  the  performance  as  his  guest — that  is  to 
say,  everybody  except  Fifi.  That  grand  lady, 
since  acquiring  the  dignity  of  leading  lady,  always 
contrived  to  be  just  half  a  minute  behind  Julie 
25 


Campipnet,  her  hated  rival;  but,  also,  just  in  time 
to  escape  a  wigging  from  Cartouche.  Cartouche 
himself,  dressed  as  a  centurion  of  the  Pretorian 
Guard,  was  the  coolest  person  behind  the  curtain, 
and  was  vigorously  rearranging  the  barrels  which 
represented  the  columns  of  the  Temple  of  Vesta. 

Julie  Campionet,  a  tall,  commanding-looking 
woman  with  an  aggressive  nose,  sailed  in  then, 
arrayed  as  a  Roman  matron.  After  her  came  Fifi, 
tripping,  and  dressed  as  a  Roman  maiden.  The 
air  was  charged  with  electricity,  and  both  Fifi  and 
the  hated  Julie  knew  that  something  was  happen 
ing.  Julie  turned  to  the  leading  man,  with  whom 
she  had  an  ancient  flirtation,  to  find  out  what  was 
the  impending  catastrophe. 

Fifi,  however,  ran  straight  to  the  place  where 
there  was  a  hole  in  the  curtain — a  hole  through 
which  Cartouche  had  strictly  forbidden  her  to  look, 
as  it  was  bad  luck  to  look  at  the  house  before  the 
curtain  went  up.  Fifi  was  terribly  afraid  of  signs 
and  omens,  but  curiosity  proved  stronger  than  fear. 
She  swept  one  comprehensive  glance  through  the 
hole,  and  then,  wildly  seizing  Cartouche  by  the  arm, 
screamed  at  him : 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

"Cartouche!  Cartouche!  It  is  the  Emperor! 
Give  me  my  smelling-salts." 

Instead  of  running  for  the  smelling-salts,  Car 
touche  shook  Fifi's  elbow  vigorously. 

"Don't  be  a  goose,  Fifi !  The  Emperor  has  come 
here  as  my  guest — do  you  understand?  And  it  is 
the  chance  of  your  life !" 

But  Fifi,  quite  pale  under  her  paint,  could  only 
gasp: 

"Cartouche,  I  can  never,  never  act  before  the 
Emperor !" 

"It  isn't  likely  you  will  ever  have  but  this  one 
opportunity,"  was  Cartouche's  unfeeling  reply. 

"Cartouche,  within  this  hour  I  have  seen  the 
Holy  Father — -and  now  the  Emperor — oh,  what  is 
to  become  of  me !" 

"Get  yourself  superseded  by  Julie  Canlpionet, 
who  has  a  walk  like  an  ostrich  and  a  voice  like  a 
peacock,"  answered  Cartouche  ru'dely,  "but  who 
does  not  go  about  screaming  like  a  cat  because 
she  has  seen  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor  both  in  one 
evening." 

Now,  Julie  Campionet  warmly  reciprocated  Fifi's 
dislike,  and  was  looking  on  at  Fifi's  doings  and 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

gloating  over  the  prospect  of  her  failure.  Fifi 
caught  Julie's  eye — and  she  would  much  rather 
have  been  flayed  alive  than  oblige  Julie  by  mak 
ing  a  fiasco;  so,  instantly,  Fifi  recovered  her  com 
posure  and  declared  she  never  felt  more  at  ease  in 
her  life,  at  which  Julie  Campionet's  spirits  sen 
sibly  fell. 

Meanwhile,  everybody,  from  Moret,  the  leading 
man,  down  to  the  old  wroman  who  acted  as  candle- 
lighter,  treated  Cartouche  as  if  he  had  been  a  hero. 
Moret,  who  had  given  himself  great  airs  with  Car 
touche,  embraced  him  and  told  him  he  would  never 
be  forgotten  by  the  members  of  the  company,  for 
whom  he  had  procured  such  an  honor.  Julie  Cam- 
pionet  would  likewise  have  embraced  him,  if  he 
had  encouraged  her,  and  did,  in  fact,  come  danger 
ously  near  kissing  him  on  the  sly,  but  Cartouche 
managed  to  escape  at  the  critical  moment.  Duver- 
net  oscillated  between  the  stage  and  the  theater, 
and  made  so  much  confusion  that  Cartouche  re 
quested  him  to  keep  away  from  the  stage  until  his 
cue  came. 

In  truth,  but  for  Cartouche's  self-possession,  the 
Emperor's  presence  would  have  simply  caused  a  ter 
rible  catastrophe  at  the  Imperial  Theater,  and  the 
28 


THE  IMPERIAL  THEATER 

manager's  Roman  tragedy  would  not  have  got  it 
self  acted  at  all  that  night ;  but,  by  coolness  and  the 
assumption  of  authority,  the  curtain  came  up  to 
the  minute,  the  play  began,  and  went  through  with 
out  a  hitch. 

As  for  Fifi,  she  acted  as  if  inspired,  and  Julie 
Campionet  saw  her  hopes  of  becoming  leading  lady 
vanish  into  thin  air.  Duvernet,  in  spite  of  two 
large  rents  in  the  toga  made  out  of  Fifi's  petticoat, 
was  a  most  imposing  senator.  In  his  dying  speech, 
which  bore  a  suspicious  likeness  to  one  of  Cor- 
ncille's  masterpieces,  his  voice  could  be  heard  bel 
lowing  as  far  as  the  corner  of  the  street  of  the 
Black  Cat. 

The  Emperor  sat  through  two  whole  acts  and 
applauded  vigorously,  and  when  the  curtain  came 
down  on  the  second  act,  sent  for  Cartouche,  ajid 
paid  the  performance  the  highest  compliments. 
Especially  did  he  charge  Cartouche  to  say  that  he 
thought  Duvernet's  death  scene  the  most  remarka 
ble  he  had  ever  witnessed  on  or  off  the  stage.  And 
then  he  handed  Cartouche  a  little  tortoise-shell 
snuff-box,  saying: 

"It  is  not  likely  I  shall  forget  you,  Cartouche — 
that  is,  not  until  I  forget  the  bridge  of  Lodi ; 
29 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

though,  really,  you  should  have  let  me  over  the 
bridge  first." 

Cartouche  shook  his  head  and  spoke  no  word, 
but  his  stern  countenance  and  his  obstinate  nose 
said  as  plainly  as  tongue  could  speak  it : 

"Your  Majesty  should  not  have  been  on  the 
bridge  at  all." 

The  Emperor  saw  this,  and  looked  significantly 
p.i  his  companions,  who  laughed.  Then  he  contin 
ued: 

"And  this  young  lady,  Mademoiselle  Chiara- 
monti,  I  shall  have  some  inquiries  made  about,  and 
the  result  may  surprise  you.  Adieu.  Remember, 
you  have  a  friend  in  your  Emperor." 

This  was  spoken  at  the  corner  of  the  street  of 
the  Black  Cat.  Cartouche,  with  adoration  in  his 
eyes,  watched  the  figure  of  the  Emperor  disappear 
in  the  darkness.  Then,  being  careful  to  note  that 
there  were  no  onlookers,  he  kissed  the  snuff-box, 
exactly  as  he  had  seen  Fifi  kiss  her  paste  brooch 
when  she  was  enamored  with  its  splendors,  and  hid 
his  treasure  in  his  breast. 

But  Fifi  saw  it  before  she  slept. 


CHAPTER  II 

NUMBER    1313 

It  took  Fifi  a  whole  month  to  recover  from  the 
shock  of  delight  which  she  had  experienced  on  the 
night  she  had  acted  before  the  Emperor.  Mean 
while,  her  little  head  became  slightly  turned,  and 
she  gave  herself  airs  of  great  haughtiness  to  Julie 
Campionet,  and  Moret,  the  leading  man,  and  even 
to  Duvernet,  the  manager.  Duvernet  was  one  of 
those  unfortunates  who  are  the  victims  of  their 
own  charms.  He  was  reckoned  a  handsome  man, 
as  beauty  goes  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine,  and 
was  almost  invincible  with  young  ladies  of  the 
ballet,  milliners'  girls  and  the  like.  When  con 
vinced  that  a  deserving  young  woman  had  fallen 
in  love  with  him,  Duvernet  felt  sorry  for  her,  and 
honestly  tried,  by  reciprocating  her  passion,  to 
keep  her  from  throwing  herself  in  the  river. 

By  virtue  of  this  amiable  weakness,  he  had  mar 
ried  in  turn,  as  Cartouche  had  said,  three  of  his 
leading  ladies,  and  was  only  safe  from  Julie  Cam- 
31 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

pionet  as  long  as  Cartouche  kept  watch,  like  a  wolf, 
over  the  lady.  Separations  always  followed  fast 
on  Duvernet's  marriages,  and  his  three  wives  were 
in  such  various  stages  of  divorce,  that,  as  Cartouche 
said,  Duvernet  himself  did  not  know  exactly  where 
he  stood  matrimonially.  Of  one  thing  only  was  he 
sure :  that  Fifi  did  not  harbor  designs  upon  him. 
And  for  this,  and  on  account  of  her  cleverness  with 
her  needle,  which  enabled  her  to  convert  her  white 
cotton  petticoat  into  a  toga  for  the  manager,  in  an 
emergency,  Duvernet  put  up  with  her  airs  and 
graces. 

Fifi  tried  a  few  of  these  same  airs  and  graces 
on  Cartouche,  but  Cartouche  had  the  habit  of  com 
mand  with  her,  and  Fifi  had  the  habit  of  obedience 
with  him ;  so  these  little  experimental  haughtinesses 
on  Fifi's  part  soon  collapsed.  Every  night,  when 
the  performance  was  over,  Cartouche  would  bring 
Fifi  home,  and  after  seeing  that  she  was  in  her 
own  little  garret,  retired  to  his,  which  was  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  and  was  the  meanest  and  poorest 
of  all  the  mean  and  poor  rooms  in  the  mean  and 
poor  lodging-house.  But  it  was  respectable ;  and 
to  Cartouche,  who  had  charged  himself  with  the 
care  of  such  a  pair  of  sparkling  dark  eyes  as  Fifi's, 
82 


NUMBER  ISIS 

and  such  a  musical  voice,  and  such  a  neat  foot 
and  ankle  as  hers,  this  respectability  was  much. 
If  he  had  had  his  way  Fifi  would  have  been  locked 
up  in  a  convent  and  only  let  out  to  be  married  to 
a  person  of  the  highest  respectability.  But  Fifi, 
in  her  own  gay  little  obstinate  head,  by  no  means 
relished  schemes  of  this  sort,  and  was  fully  deter 
mined  on  having  both  flirtations  and  a  husband, 
malgre  all  Cartouche  could  say. 

The  curious  part  of  it  was  she  could  not  con 
struct  any  plan  of  life  leaving  out  Cartouche.  She 
had  known  him  so  long;  he  had  carried  her  many 
weary  miles,  in  spite  of  his  bad  leg,  in  that  journey 
so  long  ago,  when  Fifi  was  but  a  mite  of  a  child; 
he  had  often  brought  her  a  dinner  when  she  sus 
pected  he  had  none  for  himself;  he  had  taught  her 
all  she  knew,  and  was  always  teaching  her. 

The  men  in  the  company  often  spoke  roughly  to 
the  women  in  it,  and  oftener  still,  were  unduly  fa 
miliar,  but  none  of  them  ever  spoke  so  to  her, 
chiefly  because  there  was  nothing  the  matter  with 
Cartouche's  brawny  arms,  as  he  had  told  the  Em 
peror.  And  if  the  man  Fifi  married  did  not  treat 
her  right,  Cartouche,  she  knew,  would  beat  him  all 
to  rags ;  and  how  could  she,  husband  or  no  husband, 
33 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

settle  anything  in  the  world,  from  a  new  part  in  a 
play,  to  the  way  to  make  onion  soup,  without  con 
sulting  Cartouche?  So  the  question  of  a  husband 
was  full  of  complications  for  Fifi.  At  last,  how 
ever,  a  brilliant  solution  burst  upon  her  mind:  she 
would  have  a  great  many  flirtations — and  then  she 
would  marry  Cartouche! 

Fifi  Avas  charmed  with  her  own  cleverness  in  de 
vising  this  plan.  It  occurred  to  her  at  the  very 
moment  that  she  was  putting  on  her  hat  with  the 
black  feathers  to  go  out  and  buy  herself  a  warm 
cloak.  It  was  Christmas  Eve,  late  in  the  wintry 
afternoon,  and  she  had  time,  before  she  was  due 
at  the  theater,  to  run  around  the  corner  to  a  shop 
where  she  had  seen  a  beautiful  cloak  for  thirty 
francs.  She  had  saved  up  exactly  thirty  francs 
in  the  month  since  that  stupendous  evening  when 
she  had  seen  both  the  Pope  and  the  Emperor. 

The  bargain  for  the  cloak  was  quite  completed; 
both  she  and  Cartouche  had  examined  it  critically, 
had  made  the  shopman  take  off  a  franc  for  a 
solitary  button  which  was  not  quite  right,  and 
nothing  remained  but  to  pay  over  the  thirty  francs. 
It  was  a  beautiful  cloak,  of  a  rich,  dark  red,  lined 
with  flannel — tjbcrc  was  one  like  it,  lined  with  cot- 

34 


NUMBER  1313 

ton-backed  satin,  which  Fifi  longed  for — but  when 
she  mentioned  the  flannel  lining  of  the  first  one 
to  Cartouche,  he  had  promptly  vetoed  the  cotton- 
backed  satin. 

Fifi  set  forth  gaily,  feeling  warm  in  spite  of  her 
thin  black  silk  mantle. 

It  was  near  dusk  and  a  great  silver  moon  was 
smiling  down  at  Fifi  from  the  dark  blue  heavens. 
The  streets  were  crowded  and  there  was  as  much 
gaiety  in  them  as  in  the  finer  faubourgs  across 
the  river.  The  chestnut  venders  were  out  in  force, 
and  on  nearly  every  corner  one  of  them  had  set 
up  his  temporary  kitchen,  whose  ruddy  glow 
lighted  up  the  clear-obscure  of  the  evening. 

Around  these  centers  of  light  and  warmth  people 
were  gathered,  sniffing  the  pungent  odor  of  the 
roasting  chestnuts,  and  spending  five-centime 
pieces  with  a  splendid  generosity.  The  street 
hawkers  did  a  rushing  business;  one  could  buy 
broken  furniture,  cheeses,  toy  balloons,  cheap  bon 
bons  and  cakes  tied  with  gay  ribbons,  within  twenty 
feet  of  anywhere.  Three  organ-grinders  were  go 
ing  at  the  same  time  in  front  of  the  brightly 
lighted  shop  where  Fifi's  cloak  was — for  she  al 
ready  reckoned  it  hers.  But  alas  for  Fifi!  Di- 
35 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

rectly  in  front  of  the  shop  a  crowd  had  collected 
around  an  Italian,  who  was  exhibiting  the  most 
entirely  fascinating  little  black  dog  that  Fifi  had 
ever  seen.  He  was  about  as  big  as  a  good-sized 
rabbit,  and  was  trimmed  like  a  lion.  Around  his 
neck  was  tied  a  card  on  which  was  written  : 

Toto  is  my  name,  and  1  am  a  dog  of  the  most 
aristocratic  lineage  in  France,  and  I  can  be  bought 
for  twenty  francs.  See  me  dance  and  you  will 
believe  that  I  would  be  cheap  at  a  hundred  francs. 

Fifi  edged  her  way  to  where  this  angel  of  a  dog 
was  being  shown  by  his  owner,  the  Italian,  and 
opening  her  arms  wide,  cried  out  in  Italian : 

"Come  here,  my  beauty.  Come  here,  dear 
Toto." 

The  dog  ran  to  her,  and  placing  his  paws  on  her 
gown,  gazed  up  into  her  shining  eyes  with  that 
look  of  confiding  friendship  which  only  a  dog's 
eyes  can  express.  Fifi  bent  down,  and  Toto,  put 
ting  out  a  sharp  little  red  tongue,  licked  her  deli 
cate,  cold  cheek.  Fifi  was  enraptured.  Toto,  with 
all  his  beauty,  high  descent  and  accomplishments, 
was  not  puffed  up,  but  had  a  dog's  true  heart. 

Fifi  and  Toto  became  intimate  at  once,  to  the 
delight  of  the  crowd,  as  well  as  of  Toto's  master. 
36 


NUMBER  1313 

The  Italian  saw,  in  this  evidence  of  the  dog's  gentle 
disposition,  a  better  chance  to  sell  him.  A  stout, 
red-faced  woman,  showily  dressed,  immediately  of 
fered  eighteen  francs  for  the  dog.  The  Italian 
held  out  stoutly  for  twenty,  and  to  clinch  the 
matter,  brought  out  from  his  clothes  somewhere 
a  complete  ballet  dancer's  outfit;  and  in  the  wink 
of  an  eye  Toto  was  doing  a  beautiful  ballet,  his 
skirts  of  pink  spangled  tulle  waving  up  and  down 
around  his  slim,  little  black  legs,  a  low-necked  bod 
ice  showing  a  necklace  around  his  throat,  earrings 
jangling  in  his  ears,  and  his  head  affectedly  stuck 
on  one  side,  while  he  ogled  the  gentlemen  in  true 
ballet-dancer's  style. 

Oh,  it  was  delicious !  Fifi  almost  wept  with  de 
light  as  Toto  pirouetted,  his  tulle  skirts  waving 
and  his  earrings  tinkling  musically.  And  when  at 
last  he  retired  and  sat  down,  fanning  himself  with 
his  skirts,  Fifi's  heart,  as  well  as  her  hard-earned 
money,  was  Toto's. 

The  stout,  red-faced  woman  was  obviously  im 
pressed  with  Toto's  value,  for  she  immediately  said 
to  the  Italian : 

"Nineteen  francs,  Monsieur." 

The  Italian  shook  his  head ;  and  then,  scarcely 
37 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

knowing  what  she  was  doing,  Fifi  cried  out  in  her 
musical,  high-pitched  voice: 

"Twenty  francs !    Oh,  Toto,  you  are  mine !" 

And  holding  her  arms  open,  Toto  jumped  into 
them  and  was  cuddled  to  her  breast. 

It  was  all  over  in  a  minute.  The  crowd  had  dis 
persed,  and  Fifi,  with  Toto  in  her  arms,  and  his 
ballet  dress  in  her  pocket,  where  now  only  ten  of 
her  thirty  francs  reposed,  was  rather  dumfounded 
at  the  success  of  her  sudden  venture.  The  cloak, 
of  course,  was  out  of  the  question — and  what  should 
she  say  to  Cartouche?  But  the  touch  of  Toto's 
little  black  paws  gave  her  courage,  and  it  was 
plain  that  her  love  for  him  at  first  sight  was  recip 
rocated.  So  Fifi  started  back  to  her  garret  with 
Toto,  inventing  on  the  way  her  replies  to  the  wig 
ging  Cartouche  was  sure  to  give  her. 

She  had  scarcely  got  Toto  into  her  room,  when  a 
rap  came  at  the  door,  which  Fifi  recognized,  and 
clapping  Toto  into  the  cupboard,  she  prepared  to 
face  Cartouche. 

"Well,"  said  Cartouche,  walking  in.  "Where 
is  the  cloak?" 

Fifi  busied  herself  for  a  minute  in  lighting  her 


38 


NUMBER  1313 

one  candle,  before  she  could  summon  up  courage 
to  answer,  in  a  quavering  voice : 

"I  did  not  get  the  cloak,  Cartouche.  That  is, 
not  to-day." 

"Why  not?"  demanded  Cartouche. 

"B-b-because  I  spent  twenty  francs  of  the  money 
upon — upon  something  I  wanted  more  than  the 
cloak." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Cartouche  in  a  tone  that 
made  little  shivers  run  down  Fifi's  backbone. 
"More  feathers  ?  Or  was  it  a  fan  to  keep  you  cool, 
when  the  snow  is  on  the  ground,  instead  of  a  cloak 
to  keep  you  warm?" 

"N-no.  It  was  not  a  fan.  And  it  is  something 
to  keep  me  warm,  too,  it  is  as  good  as  a  stove, 
sometimes." 

"What  is  it?" 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  note  in  Cartouche's 
voice.  Fifi  began : 

"It  is — don't  be  angry,  dear  Cartouche — it  is 
a  little  black — it  is  a  little  black — it  is  something 
alive!" 

"Is  it  a  little  black  ostrich?  Or  is  it  a  little 
black  giraffe?" 

Cartouche  came  toward  Fifi  then,  looking  ex- 
39 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

actly  as  he  did  the  day  he  caught  her  acting  with 
the  strolling  players  on  the  street. 

"Oh,  no,  Cartouche.  It  is  a  little — a  little — I 
would  much  rather  have  him  than  a  cloak.  It  is 
a  dear  little — " 

But  Toto  himself  revealed  his  species  at  that 
moment,  by  pushing  the  cupboard  door  open ;  and 
bouncing  out,  he  ran  to  Fifi's  protecting  arms. 

Cartouche  was  too  much  staggered  to  say  a 
word,  but  Fifi,  in  the  terrible  silence,  said  timidly : 

"He  can  dance,  Cartouche — and — and  stand  on 
his  hind  legs  like  a  little  angel!" 

"I  see,"  cried  Cartouche,  recovering  his  speech 
and  uncorking  his  wrath.  "It  is  for  a  little  black 
angel  that  can  stand  on  his  hind  legs  that  you  have 
sacrificed  the  cloak !" 

"Yes,"  cried  Fifi,  likewise  recovering  her  speech, 
now  that  the  murder  was  out.  "Toto  is  worth  a 
dozen  cloaks  to  me,  and  he  only  cost  twenty  francs. 
It  is  almost  like  buying  a  dear  little  child  for  twen 
ty  francs.  I  shall  love  Toto  so  much  and  he  will 
love  me  back — we  shall  love  each  other  better  than 
anything  in  the  world !" 

Cartouche  drew  back  a  little  as  if  he  had  re- 


40 


NUMBER  1313 

ceived  a  blow.     He  remained  silent — so  silent  that 
Fifi  was  a  little  scared. 

"You  should  see  him  dance,"  she  said ;  and  slip 
ping  Toto's  ballet  costume  on  him,  she  began  to 
sing  in  a  very  lively  manner : 

Le  petit  mousse  noir. 

Toto,  evidently  thinking  that  he  was  meant  by 
the  black  cabin-boy  of  whom  the  song  treats,  made 
his  stage  bow,  and  began  his  ballet  dancing.  And 
as  it  went  on,  Cartouche,  in  spite  of  himself,  began 
to  laugh.  That  was  Fifi's  triumph — and  spring 
ing  up,  she,  too,  began  to  dance  as  well  as  sing. 

She  was  only  a  half-starved  little  actress  on 
twenty-five  francs  the  week.  She  had  no  friend 
in  the  world  but  Cartouche,  who  was  as  poor  as 
she  was,  but  her  heart  was  light,  and  her  fresh 
young  voice  caroled  merrily  in  the  cold,  bare  little 
room.  Cartouche  sat,  looking  at  her,  and  trying 
to  frown;  but  it  was  in  vain.  He  knew  nothing 
of  that  newly-formed  resolve  in  Fifi's  mind,  to  have 
a  great  many  flirtations  and  then  to  marry  him; 
and  then,  a  vast,  a  stupendous  sacrifice  came  into 
his  mind  by  which  he  could  still  get  Fifi  a  cloak. 


He  had  ten  francs  of  his  own,  and  there  was  the 
tortoise-shell  snuff-box  the  Emperor  had  given  him. 
Cartouche  himself  would  have  starved  and  frozen 
rather  than  take  it  to  the  pawnshop — but  Fifi's  cold 
and  hunger  was  something  else.  There  was  no 
struggle  in  making  the  resolve,  sacrifice  for  Fifi 
was  no  sacrifice  to  Cartouche,  but  there  was  a  mo 
ment  of  sharp  regret — a  feeling  that  the  only 
treasure  among  his  poor  possessions  was  about  to 
be  torn  from  him.  Presently  he  said  gently : 

"Fifi,  I  have  two  bundles  of  fagots  in  my  room 
and  a  sausage,  and  I  will  get  a  bottle  of  wine,  and 
after  the  performance  to-night  we  will  have  a 
little  supper  here.  And  I  will  forgive  you  for  buy 
ing  Toto." 

"That  will  be  best  of  all,"  cried  Fifi,  remember 
ing  that  in  the  end  she  meant  to  marry  Cartouche. 

Cartouche  went  out,  leaving  Fifi  alone,  for  half 
an  hour  of  rapture  with  Toto,  before  it  was  time 
to  go  to  the  theater.  He  climbed  up  to  his  garret 
under  the  roof,  and  taking  his  cherished  snuff-box 
from  his  breast  where  he  always  carried  it,  looked 
at  it  as  a  mother  looks  her  last  on  her  dead  child; 
and  then,  going  quickly  downstairs  again  into  the 


NUMBER  1313 

street,  he  made  for  a  pawnshop  close  by,  with  which 
he  was  well  acquainted. 

Just  as  he  turned  the  corner  of  the  street  of  the 
Black  Cat,  he  almost  ran  into  Duvernet's  arms. 

"Hey,  Cartouche,  you  are  the  very  man  I  want 
to  see,"  cried  the  manager,  buttonholing  him.  And 
then,  noting  that  several  persons  on  the  street 
stopped  and  looked  at  him,  Duvernet  swelled  out 
his  chest  and  assumed  an  attitude  in  which  he  very 
much  admired  himself  in  his  favorite  part  of  the 
Roman  senator. 

Duvernet  continued  in  a  very  impressive  manner : 
"I  contemplate  both  raising  your  salary,  Cartouche, 
and  also  making  you  a  little  gift.  You  have  worked 
hard  for  me;  you  got  the  Emperor  to  the  theater, 
and  business  has  been  remarkably  good  ever  since, 
and  you  have  kept  Julie  Campionet  from  marrying 
me — so  far,  that  is — and  I  feel  the  obligation,  I 
assure  you.  So  your  salary  after  this  will  be 
twenty  -five  francs  the  week,  and  here  are  three  ten- 
franc  pieces  which  I  beg  you  will  accept." 

With  the  air  of  a  Roman  emperor  bestowing 
a  province  upon  a  faithful  proconsul,  Duvernet 
thrust  the  thirty  francs  into  Cartouche's  hand. 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Cartouche,  thoroughly  dazed,  mumbled  something 
meant  for  thanks  as  he  accepted  the  three  ten-franc 
pieces.  Duvernet,  suddenly  dropping  his  majestic 
manner,  said,  in  Cartouche's  ear : 

"And  remember,  you  have  got  to  keep  Julie 
Campionet  from  marrying  me.  I  don't  like  the 
look  in  her  eye — she  shows  she  is  bent  on  it — and 
stop  Fifi  from  reminding  me  of  that  infernal  white 
petticoat  she  gave  me." 

Cartouche  nodded,  and  Duvernet,  resuming  his 
air  of  benignant  magnificence,  stalked  off,  happy. 
At  least  six  persons  had  seen  him  make  this  princely 
present.  His  heart  was  good,  although  his  head 
was  indifferent,  and  he  was  sincerely  glad  to  be  able 
to  reward  Cartouche  for  his  faithfulness. 

In  a  minute  or  two  Cartouche  came  to  himself, 
and  tore  along  the  street,  as  fast  as  his  stiff  leg 
would  allow,  to  the  cloak  shop,  where,  in  two  sec 
onds,  he  had  paid  the  money  for  the  beautiful 
cloak,  and  had  it  wrapped  in  a  bundle  under  his 
arm.  How  happy  was  Cartouche  then ! 

He  still  had  his  ten  francs,  and  he  determined  to 
make  a  little  Christmas  feast  for  Fifi.  So  he 
bought  a  jar  of  cabbage-soup,  and  a  little  bag  of 


44 


NUMBER  1313 

onions,  and  some  chocolate.  Then  he  went  into  a 
wine  shop  for  a  bottle  of  wine. 

The  wine  shop  was  a  cheerful,  dirty,  agreeable 
place  that  he  knew  well.  When  he  entered  he  found 
the  shop  full  of  men,  standing  around  a  table  on 
which  was  a  blindfolded  boy  with  a  hat  full  of  slips 
of  paper  in  his  hand. 

A  shout  greeted  Cartouche's  arrival. 

"You  are  just  in  time,  Monsieur  Cartouche," 
cried  the  proprietor,  a  jolly  red-faced  man.  "You 
make  the  last  and  twenty-fifth  man  necessary  to 
join  our  lottery.  I  have  bought  a  ticket  in  the 
Grand  Imperial  Lottery,  which  is  to  be  drawn  in  a 
fortnight,  and  for  every  bottle  of  wine  I  sell,  and  a 
franc  extra,  I  give  my  customers  a  chance  in  the 
lottery  ticket,  limiting  it  to  twenty-five  chances. 
Come  now — I  see  good  luck  written  all  over  you — 
hand  me  your  franc." 

Cartouche  handed  out  his  franc,  bought  his  bot 
tle  of  wine,  and  joined  the  circle  at  the  table.  The 
little  boy  handed  the  hat  around,  and  every  man 
took  a  slip  out  and  read  thereon  a  number.  Car 
touche  took  his  slip  and  read  out : 

"Number  1313!" 


45 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

A  roar  of  laughter  greeted  this,  but  when  it  sub 
sided,  the  proprietor  advanced,  and  handing  Car 
touche  a  blue  lottery  ticket,  said  gravely: 

"You  have  won,  Monsieur  Cartouche,  in  our  lot 
tery,  and  I  hope  you  will  win  in  the  Imperial  Lot 
tery.  The  number  of  the  ticket  I  offer  you  is 
1313." 

There  was  another  shout  of  derision,  and  sev 
eral  of  the  disappointed  ones  commiserated  with 
Cartouche  on  the  load  of  ill  luck  he  was  carrying 
off  with  him  in  number  1313,  but  Cartouche  stoutly 
maintained  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  afraid  of, 
and  hurried  back  to  the  street  of  the  Black  Cat. 

There  was  j  ust  time  for  him  to  get  to  the  theater 
and  dress.  The  people  came  pouring  into  the 
house,  and  the  box  office  took  in  the  enormous  sum 
of  two  hundred  and  ninety-eight  francs.  It  was 
again  Duvernet's  Roman  tragedy,  and  it  went 
finely.  Fifi  again  acted  as  if  inspired,  and  received 
any  number  of  recalls,  besides  a  wreath  of  holly, 
with  an  imitation  silver  buckle  in  it,  handed  over 
the  footlights  from  an  unknown  admirer. 

During  the  waits  between  the  acts  she  told  her 
fellow  actors  of  Toto's  charms  and  accomplish 
ments,  so  that  the  other  women,  some  of  whom  pos- 
46 


NUMBER  1313 

scssed  nothing  more  interesting  than  babies,  were 
furiously  jealous. 

But  at  last  the  play  was  over,  and  Fifi  and  Car 
touche  were  in  Fifi's  garret,  with  a  good  fire  in  the 
stove,  made  with  Cartouche's  fagots,  the  cabbage- 
soup,  the  onions,  the  wine,  and  the  sausage,  and 
the  chocolate  on  the  table,  and  Toto  to  make  the 
trio  complete.  Cartouche  had  sneaked  the  cloak 
in,  without  Fifi's  seeing  it,  and  just  as  they  were 
sitting  down  to  the  table  he  said  carelessly,  as  if 
thirty-franc  cloaks  were  the  most  ordinary  inci 
dents  in  life: 

"Fifi,  if  you  will  open  that  bundle  on  the  chair, 
you  will  find  a  little  gift  from  me." 

Fifi  ran  and  tore  the  parcel  open,  and  there  was 
the  beautiful,  warm,  crimson  cloak.  She  flew  to 
Cartouche,  and  with  dewy  eyes,  although  her  lips 
were  smiling,  gave  him  one  of  those  hearty  kisses 
she  had  given  him  when  she  was  a  little,  black- 
eyed  damsel  ten  years  old.  Cartouche  did  not 
return  the  kiss,  but  sat,  first  pale  and  then  red, 
and  with  such  a  strange  look  on  his  face  that  Fifi 
was  puzzled. 

"Never  mind,"  she  said  to  herself.     "The  next 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

time  it  will  be  he  who  kisses  me — not  I  who  kiss 
him." 

But  nothing  could  spoil  the  joy  over  the  new 
cloak. 

"To  think  that  I  should  have  the  red  cloak  and 
Toto,  too !  Oh,  it  is  too  much !"  cried  Fifi. 

"Quite  too  much — too  much  by  way  of  a  dog," 
remarked  Cartouche;  but  as  Toto  at  that  moment 
jumped  from  his  chair  at  the  table  on  to  Car 
touche's  knee,  it  became  impossible  not  to  be 
friendly  with  the  little  rogue,  and  perfect  harmony 
reigned  among  the  three  friends. 

Cartouche  and  Fifi  were  among  the  poorest  peo 
ple  in  Paris;  they  worked  hard  for  a  very  little 
money ;  the  room  was  small  and  bare,  and  although 
Fifi  had  now  a  cloak  for  the  winter,  she  would 
have  been  better  off  for  some  warm  stockings,  and 
Cartouche  for  some  flannel  shirts. 

Nevertheless,  they  were  as  happy  as  the  birds  in 
spring.  They  ate,  they  drank,  they  laughed,  they 
sang.  Fifi  dressed  Toto  up  in  his  ballet  costume, 
and  together  they  did  a  beautiful  ballet  divertisse 
ment  for  Cartouche,  which  he  liberally  applauded. 
He  told  Fifi  of  his  twenty-five  francs  a  week,  as 
well  as  Duvernet's  present,  and  Fifi  concluded  that 
48 


NUMBER  1313 

he  would  be  a  desirable  parti  for  his  money  as  well 
as  for  his  solid  virtues,  and  determined  to  propose 
to  him  before  another  year  should  pass. 

Cartouche  had  forgotten  about  the  lottery 
ticket,  but  just  as  he  was  leaving,  he  remembered 
it  and  handed  it  to  Fifi.  At  the  sight  of  the  num 
bers  on  it,  Fifi  shrieked : 

"Take  it  away!  Take  it  away!  It  will  bring 
bad  luck  !  Take  it  away !" 

"I  won't,"  replied  Cartouche,  "and  do  you,  Fifi, 
take  care  of  it.  You  may  draw  the  hundred-thou 
sand-franc  prize  in  the  lottery  yet.  Just  as  likely 
as  not  the  prizes  arc  put  on  the  numbers  that  no 
body  would  choose." 

This  somewhat  reconciled  Fifi  to  the  danger  of 
keeping  number  1313;  so  she  reluctantly  put  it 
away  in  the  box  where  she  kept  her  treasure  of  a 
paste  brooch,  remarking  meanwhile : 

"If  it  draws  the  hundred-thousand-franc  prize, 
I  will  marry  you,  Cartouche." 

Again  Cartouche  turned  red  and  pale.  These 
jokes  which  seemed  to  amuse  Fifi  so  much,  cut  him 
to  the  quick.  He  only  growled : 

"About  as  much  chance  of  one  as  of  the  other." 

And  then  a  great  melodious  deep-toned  bell  in 
49 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

a  neighboring  church  began  its  chiming,  solemn 
and  glorious,  proclaiming  that  Christmas  Day  was 
at  hand,  and  Fifi,  falling  on  her  knees,  as  her 
mother  had  taught  her  long  years  ago,  in  Italy, 
thanked  God  for  giving  her  Cartouche,  and  Toto, 
and  the  red  cloak  lined  with  flannel. 
She  forgot  all  about  the  lottery  ticket. 


50 


CHAPTER  III 

THE    GRAND    PRIZE 

For  the  first  fortnight  of  the  new  year,  things 
went  swimmingly  at  the  Imperial  Theater,  and 
several  times  the  nightly  receipts  were  over  three 
hundred  francs.  Duvernet  wrote  and  produced 
a  new  play,  in  which  he  took  the  part  of  Alexander 
the  Great ;  and  it  was  a  screaming  success.  Fifi 
as  Queen  Roxana  was  simply  stunning,  wearing 
her  alleged  diamond  brooch  in  a  tiara  made  by  her 
own  hands,  of  beautiful  glass  beads.  The  merry 
war  between  Julie  Campionct  and  herself  went  on 
as  noisily  as  ever,  but  there  was  more  noise  than 
malignity  about  it.  When  Julie  was  ill  with  a 
cold,  Fifi  went  and  cooked  Julie's  dinner  for  her; 
and  when  Fifi  needed  a  scepter  for  her  part  of 
Queen  Roxana,  Julie  Campionet  sent  her  a  very 
nice  parasol  handle  with  a  glass  knob  at  the  top 
which  made  a  lovely  scepter. 

But  they  did  not,  for  these  trifles,  deny  them 
selves  the  pleasure  of  quarreling,  and  Duvernet  was 
51 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

treated  about  once  a  week  to  a  threat  from  each 
of  them  that  if  her  rival  were  not  immediately  dis 
charged,  the  complainant  would  at  once  resign. 
Duvernet  received  these  threats  with  secret  satisfac 
tion,  because,  as  he  explained  to  Cartouche,  as  long 
as  the  war  was  actively  prosecuted,  Julie  Campionet 
did  not  have  time  to  make  a  serious  demonstration 
against  him. 

"But  if  ever  they  are  reconciled,"  he  confided 
gloomily  to  Cartouche,  "the  Campionet  woman 
will  marry  me  in  a  week." 

As  for  Cartouche,  he  attended  strictly  to  his 
business  at  the  theater,  but  his  mind  was  so  much 
taken  up  with  certain  possibilities  of  the  future 
that  he  did  not  keep  the  faithful  watch  over  Du 
vernet  which  the  manager  considered  as  his  safe 
guard.  Cartouche  Avas  even  so  inconsiderate  as 
to  let  Julie  Campionet  get  into  the  manager's  pri 
vate  office  more  than  once,  and  remain  there  alone 
with  him  for  at  least  five  minutes,  without  inter 
rupting  the  tete-a-tete. 

It   was   the  lottery   ticket  which   in   some   way 

grievously  disturbed  Cartouche's  mind.      Suppose 

Fifi  should  win  a  prize?   And  from  that  supposing, 

came  a  kind  of  superstitious  conviction  that  num- 

52 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

her  1313  would  win  a  prize.  He  found  himself, 
without  his  own  volition,  figuring  upon  what  should 
be  done  with  the  money,  so  as  to  enure  to  the  great 
est  benefit  of  Fifi. 

"If  it  is  a  twenty-franc  prize  she  draws,  she  must 
have  a  pair  of  new  shoes,  and  some  good  stock 
ings" — he  thought,  for  Cartouche  knew  inti 
mately  the  condition  of  Fifi's  wardrobe.  "If  it  is 
as  much  as  fifty  francs,  the  shoes  and  stockings 
must  wait — it  won't  do  to  fool  away  such  a  sum 
as  fifty  francs;  it  must  be  put  aside  for  a  rainy 
day,  for  Fifi,  in  the  tin  box  in  the  cranny  of  the 
chimney" — where  Cartouche  was  beginning  to 
save  up  also  for  a  rainy  day,  for  Fifi.  If  it  were 
five  hundred  francs — or  possibly  a  thousand — Car 
touche  lost  his  breath  in  contemplation  of  the  ca 
tastrophe.  In  that  case,  Fifi  would  have  a  dot,  but 
whom  would  she  marry?  She  knew  no  one  but  the 
men  about  the  theater,  and  Cartouche  did  not  con 
sider  any  of  them  a  match  for  Fifi ;  but  perhaps 
he  was  prejudiced.  She  might,  it  is  true,  with  five 
hundred  francs  to  her  dowry,  marry  a  tradesman; 
but  how  would  Fifi  get  on  with  a  tradesman  ? 

Altogether,  it  was  the  most  puzzling  proposition 
Cartouche  had  ever  struggled  with,  and  he  began 
53 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

to  wish  the  fateful  day  were  over,  and  that  these 
strange  dreams  and  hopes  and  fears  about  Fifi  and 
the  lottery  ticket  would  vanish  like  shapes  in  a 
mist,  and  leave  him  in  peace. 

Then,  there  was  that  veiled  suggestion  from  the 
Emperor  that  he  knew  something  about  Fifi's  fam 
ily  which  might  change  her  whole  destiny;  and  on 
the  whole,  Cartouche  had  good  reason  to  go  about 
looking  like  a  sick  bull,  which  was  his  way  of 
showing  a  passionate  solicitude  for  the  being  dear 
est  to  him  on  earth.  And  meanwhile,  Julie  Cam- 
pionet  went  hot  foot  after  the  manager,  and  Fifi 
wondered  why  Cartouche  was  so  gentle  with  her 
and  so  indulgent  with  Toto. 

The  lottery  drawing  was  to  be  held  on  the  tenth 
of  January,  in  a  large  public  hall  of  the  arron- 
dissement,  the  mayor  presiding.  The  drawing  was 
to  begin  at  noon,  and  last  until  all  the  tickets  were 
drawn.  As  the  day  drew  near,  Cartouche's  fever 
of  excitement  increased,  and  when  the  morning  of 
the  tenth  dawned  he  was  as  nervous  as  a  cat.  He 
knocked  at  Fifi's  door  early,  and  told  her  to  be 
ready  to  go  with  him  at  twelve  o'clock  to  the  lot 
tery  drawing.  Fifi  responded  sleepily,  but  when 
the  hour  came  she  was  ready  to  accompany  him. 
54- 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

It  was  a  lovely,  bright  morning,  and  Fifi's  looks 
were  in  harmony  with  the  morning.  The  red 
cloak  was  very  becoming  to  her,  and  the  black 
feathers,  for  which  her  first  thirty  francs  had  gone, 
nodded  over  the  most  sparkling,  piquant  face  in 
Paris.  Toto,  of  course,  was  along,  led  by  a  long 
blue  ribbon  in  his  mistress'  hand;  and  so  they 
set  off. 

Fifi  had  not  the  slightest  thought  of  drawing  a 
prize. 

"As  if  1313  Avould  draw  anything!"  she  sniffed. 
"If  you  had  given  me  that  franc,  Cartouche,  which 
the  ticket  cost,  I  could  have  bought  a  pair  of 
gloves,  or  a  fan,  or  a  bushel  of  onions —  Fifi  went 
on  to  enumerate  what  she  could  have  bought  with 
Cartouche's  franc,  until  its  purchasing  power  grew 
to  be  something  like  her  whole  weekly  salary.  But 
in  any  event,  she  liked  the  expedition  she  was  on 
and  Toto  liked  it;  so,  on  the  whole,  Fifi  concluded 
she  could  at  least  get  fifty  centimes'  worth  of  pleas 
ure  out  of  the  lottery  ticket. 

She  looked  so  pretty  as  she  tripped  along  that 
Cartouche  mentally  resolved,  if  she  drew  a  five-hun 
dred-franc  prize,  she  might  aspire  to  a  notary, 
such  as  her  father  had  been;  and  engrossed  with 
55 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

the  thought  of  Fifi's  possible  rise  in  the  world,  he 
was  so  grumpy,  Fifi  declared  she  almost  hated 
him. 

They  were  among  the  first  to  arrive,  and  secured 
good  seats  near  the  tribune.  There  sat  the  officers 
of  the  lottery,  the  mayor  with  his  tricolored  sash, 
and  several  representatives  of  the  government,  to 
gether  with  a  little  fairy  of  a  child,  all  in  white, 
who  was  to  draw  the  numbers  from  the  wheel,  which 
was  already  in  place. 

The  crowd  assembled  in  the  hall  was  an  orderly 
and  well-dressed  one,  but  Fifi  and  Cartouche,  who 
were  used  to  crowds,  felt  in  a  subtile  way  that  it  was 
quite  different  from  the  ordinary  crowd.  Most  of 
the  people  were,  like  Cartouche,  in  a  state  of  acute 
tension.  They  were  strangely  still  and  silent,  but 
also,  strangely  ready  to  laugh,  to  cry,  to  shout — to 
do  anything  which  would  take  the  edge  off  the 
crisis. 

When  the  drawing  began,  and  one  or  two  small 
prizes  of  twenty  and  fifty  francs  were  drawn,  the 
winners  were  vociferously  cheered.  There  was  a 
feeling  that  the  grand  prize  of  a  hundred  thousand 
francs  would  not  be  drawn  until  late  in  the  after- 


56 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

noon,  and  the  people  were  letting  off  their  excite 
ment  over  the  little  prizes,  waiting  for  the  thunder 
bolt  to  fall.  But  scarcely  half  an  hour  after  the 
drawing  began,  there  was  a  sudden,  deep  pause — 
time  itself  seemed  to  stop  for  a  moment — and  then 
the  auctioneer,  who  was  calling  out  the  prizes, 
roared  out : 

"Number  1313  draws  the  grand  prize  of  one 
hundred  thousand  francs !" 

Cartouche  sat  stunned.  Like  persons  near 
drowning,  he  saw  in  an  instant,  by  some  inward 
vision,  all  his  past  and  future  with  Fifi ;  she  was  no 
more  for  him.  A  great  gulf  had  opened  between 
them.  Had  it  been  thundered  in  his  cars  for  a 
century,  he  could  not  have  realized  it  more  than  in 
the  first  two  seconds  after  the  announcement  was 
made.  Fifi  had  a  hundred  thousand  francs;  then 
she  could  be  Fifi,  his  little  Fifi,  no  more.  He  saw, 
in  a  mental  flash,  the  little  store  he  had  saved  up 
in  the  cranny  of  the  chimney — twenty-two  francs. 
Twenty -two  francs !  What  a  miserable  sum !  A 
blur  came  before  his  eyes;  he  heard  a  great  noise 
of  men  shouting  and  clapping ;  women  were  waving 
their  handkerchiefs  and  laughing  and  screaming 


57 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

out  of  sheer  inability  to  keep  quiet.  As  for  Fifi, 
she  turned  two  wide,  innocent,  frightened  eyes  on 
Cartouche,  and  stammered : 

"Dear  Cartouche — shall  we  really  have  a  hun 
dred — thousand — francs — of  our  own?" 

"You  will  have  it,  Fifi,"  replied  Cartouche, 
and  thrusting  the  ticket  in  her  nerveless  hand,  he 
forced  her  to  stand  up  and  show  it,  which  Fifi 
did,  then  suddenly  burst  into  a  torrent  of  tears 
and  a  tempest  of  sobs. 

Her  youth,  her  beauty,  her  tears,  her  humility 
touched  all  hearts;  and  this  time  there  was  a  roar 
of  sympathy.  Fifi's  slight  figure  swayed  and 
would  have  fallen  but  for  Cartouche  holding  her 
up.  It  was  buzzed  about  on  all  sides : 

"Who  is  that  tall,  ugly  fellow  with  her?"  Some 
said  her  father,  some  her  brother,  but  no  one  said 
he  was  her  lover. 

The  formalities  were  simple  and  brief;  the 
drawing  would  still  take  many  hours ;  and  Fifi, 
with  her  precious  memorandum,  duly  signed  and 
countersigned,  to  be  presented  at  a  certain  bank, 
was  once  again  in  the  street  with  Cartouche. 

It  was  a  bright,  soft  January  day,  the  sun  gilding 
the  blue  river,  the  quays  and  bridges,  and  lighting 

58 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

up  with  a  golden  glow  the  great  masses  of  the 
Louvre  and  the  Tuilcrics.  Fifi  walked  along, 
clutching  Cartouche's  arm  tightly.  She  had  for 
gotten  Toto  trotting  soberly  at  her  side,  and  ap 
parently  crushed  by  the  hundred  thousand  francs, 
forgotten  all  but  Cartouche,  who  seemed  to  her  the 
only  thing  that  was  not  changed  in  all  the  wide 
world.  It  was  Cartouche  who  held  Toto's  blue 
ribbon  and  who  straightened  Fifi's  hat  when  it  fell 
over  her  eyes  and  she  was  too  agitated  to  know  it. 
Cartouche  proposed  to  her  to  stop  and  rest  in  the 
Tuilcries  gardens — but  Fifi  would  have  none  of  it. 

"Take  me  home,"  she  cried.  "Take  me  some 
where  so  I  can  cry  as  much  as  I  like !" 

This  struck  Cartouche  as  a  perfectly  natural 
way  of  receiving  such  stunning  news ;  he  himself 
could  have  wept  with  pleasure. 

At  last  they  were  in  Fifi's  shabby  little  room, 
and  Fifi  was  taking  off  her  new  cloak  and  folding 
it  up  mechanically. 

"No  need  to  do  that,  Fifi,"  said  Cartouche,  in  a 
strange  voice.  "After  to-morrow  you  need  not 
wear  thirty-franc  cloaks  any  more." 

"Oh,  you  cruel  Cartouche !"  cried  Fifi,  and  burst 
into  the  anticipated  fit  of  crying.  She  insisted  on 
59 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

weeping  on  Cartouche's  shoulder,  and  even  kicked 
Toto  when  that  sympathetic  dog  would  have  joined 
his  grief  to  hers,  for  Toto  knew  well  enough  that 
something  was  to  pay,  whether  it  was  the  devil 
or  not,  he  could  not  tell,  but  rather  suspected  it 
was  the  devil. 

Cartouche  tried  to  comfort  Fifi — usually  not  a 
difficult  problem  when  one  has  to  be  reconciled  to 
a  fortune — but  there  is  always  something  stagger 
ing  in  contemplating  another  state  of  existence. 
Neither  Cartouche  nor  Fifi  could  at  once  become 
calm,  and  Fifi,  too,  felt  in  some  singular,  but  acute 
manner,  that  the  hundred  thousand  francs  stood 
between  her  and  Cartouche. 

"Now,  mind,  Fifi,"  Cartouche  said,  "not  a  word 
of  this  to  the  people  in  the  theater.  Wait  until 
the  money  is  actually  in  your  hands." 

"In  my  hands,"  cried  Fifi,  tearfully  and  indig 
nantly,  "in  your  hands,  you  mean,  you  cruel  Car 
touche  !" 

Fifi  had  called  Cartouche  cruel  a  dozen  times 
since  she  had  drawn  the  prize,  but  Cartouche  did 
not  mind  it.  He  would  have  liked  to  stay  with  her 
but  there  were  a  dozen  things  awaiting  him  at  the 
theater,  and  Cartouche  was  not  the  man  to  neglect 
60 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

his  work.  He  went  off,  therefore,  and  had  not  a 
minute  to  himself,  until  just  before  it  was  time  to 
dress  for  the  play.  Then  he  went  to  his  room, 
and  taking  his  tin  box  from  the  chink  in  the  chim 
ney,  he  counted  over  his  twenty-two  francs — saved 
by  doing  without  food  and  fire. 

Clothes  and  shoes  he  must  have  to  keep  his  place 
in  the  theater.  Duvcrnet  had  been  a  good  friend 
to  him,  and  he  could  not  go  in  rags,  so  that  people 
would  say :  "There  goes  one  of  Duvernct's  actors. 
That  man  does  not  pay  his  people  enough  to  give 
them  decent  clothes  to  their  backs." 

But  food  and  fire  were  a  man's  own  affairs,  and, 
by  keeping  on  the  near  side  of  both,  Cartouche  had 
been  able  to  save  twenty-two  francs  in  three  weeks 
of  the  coldest  weather  he  had  ever  felt.  And  how 
little  it  was !  How  contemptible  alongside  of  a  hun 
dred  thousand  francs  !  Cartouche,  sighing,  put  the 
box  back.  It  was  all  in  vain:  those  days  when  he 
battled  with  his  hunger,  those  bitter  nights  when 
the  snow  lay  deep  on  the  roofs  below  his  garret,  and 
his  old,  cracked  stove  was  as  cold  as  the  snow.  And 
yet,  there  had  been  a  tender,  piercing  sweetness  in 
the  very  endurance  of  those  privations — it  was  for 
Fifi.  And  Fifi  would  never  more  need  his  savings, 

61 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

which  thought  should  have  made  him  happy,  but 
did  not. 

The  next  day,  the  whole  story  was  out,  the  news 
papers  published  the  numbers  and  names  of  the 
winners,  and  it  was  as  if  Fifi  had  been  transported 
to  another  planet. 

Duvernet  came  first  to  congratulate  her.  She 
was  in  a  cold  spasm  of  terror  for  fear  he  had  come 
to  tell  her  that  her  services  were  no  longer  needed 
at  the  theater.  It  seemed  to  her  as  if  she  were 
about  to  be  thrown  headlong  into  an  unknown 
abyss,  and  she  thought  that  if  she  could  but  remain 
at  the  Imperial  Theater  for  a  short  while  longer, 
long  enough  to  get  accustomed  to  that  stupendous 
change  which  awaited  her,  it  would  become  a 
little  more  tolerable.  And  Duvernet  himself  was 
so  strange,  it  frightened  Fifi.  He  was  so  respect 
ful;  he  did  not  strut  as  usual,  and  he  called  her 
Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti,  instead  of  Fifi.  And 
Toto,  who  usually  barked  furiously  at  the  man 
ager,  did  not  bark  at  all,  but  sat  on  his  hind  legs, 
his  fore  legs  dropping  dejectedly,  and  looked  rue 
fully  in  Duvernet's  face,  as  much  as  to  say : 

"See,  Monsieur  Duvernet;  we  have  got  a  hun 
dred  thousand  francs  and  we  don't  know  what  to 
62 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

do  with  it,  or  how  to  behave  ourselves."  Toto,  in 
fact,  had  neither  barked  nor  danced  nor  jumped 
since  lie  heard  the  news,  and  appeared  thoroughly 
oppressed  and  abashed  by  his  changed  fortunes. 

Duvernct,  it  is  true,  felt  some  awe  of  Fifi  in  her 
new  aspect,  but  the  active  and  enterprising  man 
ager  was  still  uppermost  with  him. 

"Well,  Mademoiselle,"  he  began,  trying  to  as 
sume  an  airy  manner,  "I  presume  we  shall  have 
to  dispense  with  your  valuable  services  at  the  Im 
perial  Theater;  you  will  probably  abandon  the 
stage  altogether,  and  certainly  our  humble  place." 

Duvernet,  before  this,  had  always  spoken  as  if 
the  Imperial  Theater  were  the  rival  of  the  Theatre 
Fran£aise. 

Fifi  burst  into  tears. 

"Yes,"  she  cried,  "I  shall  have  to  go  away — and 
that  odious  Julie  Campionet,  who  can  no  more  act 
than  a  gridiron  can  act,  will  have  all  my  best  parts 
— o-o-o-o-oo-h !" 

Then  Duvernet  played  his  trump  card. 

"A  few  farewell  performances,  Mademoiselle, 
would  put  Julie  Campionet's  nose  severely  out  of 
joint." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  cried  Fifi,  brightening  up 
63 


at  the  thought  of  putting  Julie's  Roman  nose  out 
of  joint ;  that,  at  least,  seemed  natural  and  normal. 

"If  Cartouche  will  let  me —  '  for  Fifi  now,  in 
stead  of  opposing  Cartouche,  seemed  unable  to  come 
to  the  smallest  decision  without  him. 

"I  will  see  to  that,"  replied  the  manager  eagerly, 
"and  I  will  also  see  to  it  that  Julie  Campionet  is 
made  to  gnaw  the  file." 

Just  then  Cartouche  coming  in,  Fifi  besought 
him  to  let  her  act  for  at  least  two  weeks  more ;  and 
Cartouche,  feeling  himself  that  vague,  but  intense 
strangeness  of  all  things  and  people  since  Fifi  got 
her  hundred  thousand  francs,  consented.  When  it 
was  decided,  Toto  laid  his  nose  down  on  his  paws 
and  uttered  a  short  whine  of  relief,  which  sounded 
like  grace  after  meat. 

So  Fifi  was  to  play  for  two  weeks  more  at  the 
Imperial  Theater,  the  franc  seats  were  to  be  two 
francs,  and  the  cheapest  seats,  fifty  centimes.  Fifi 
breathed  again.  It  was  a  respite. 

Meanwhile  Fifi  had  been  formally  notified  that 
the  money  was  awaiting  her  at  a  certain  bank,  and 
she  was  requested  to  name  a  day  for  the  payment 
to  her,  in  the  presence  of  an  official  of  the  lottery, 
a  friend  of  her  own,  and  a  representative  of  the 
64 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

lottery  company.  Fifi,  or  rather  Cartouche  for 
her,  named  a  day  a  whole  month  from  the  day  of 
the  lottery  drawing.  They  were  both  frightened 
at  the  prospect  of  Fifi's  receiving  the  money. 

She  and  Cartouche  resumed  their  life  exactly  as 
it  had  been  before  number  1313  was  purchased. 
Cartouche,  going  about  attending  to  his  business 
as  usual,  thought  his  head  would  crack.  At  the 
end  of  the  month,  what  was  to  be  done?  He  was 
but  little  more  experienced  than  Fifi  when  it  came 
to  a  hundred  thousand  francs.  Fifi  must  find  an 
other  and  a  very  different  home — but  where?  She 
must  be  married — but  when  and  how  and  to  whom? 
He  knew  of  no  one  of  whom  he  could  ask  advice, 
except  one,  and  he  was  not  easy  to  reach — the 
Emperor.  Cartouche  was  as  certain  as  he  was  of 
being  alive,  that  if  he  could  see  his  Emperor,  and 
could  tell  the  whole  story,  a  way  out  of  all  lu's  per 
plexities  could  be  found.  He  had  a  shadowy  hope 
that  the  Emperor  might  have  discovered  something 
about  Fifi,  according  to  that  mysterious  hint  he 
gave  the  memorable  night  when  he  heard  her  name, 
but  it  did  not  materialize. 

At  last  Cartouche  formed  the  desperate  resolve 
of  trying  to  sec  the  Emperor  and  telling  all  lu's 
65 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

trouble  about   Fifi.      On  certain  morning's  in  the 

O 

week  an  inspection  of  the  Imperial  Guard  was 
held  in  the  courtyard  of  the  Tuileries ;  and  on  one 
of  these  mornings — a  cold,  dull,  uncertain  morn 
ing,  matching  Cartouche's  feelings — he  went  and 
stationed  himself  as  close  to  the  iron  railings  of 
the  courtyard  as  the  police  would  let  him.  He 
thought  to  himself :  "The  Emperor  sees  everything 
and  everybody.  He  will  see  me,  and  he  will  know 
that  I  have  something  on  my  mind,  and  then  he 
will  send  for  me,  and  I  will  make  a  clean  breast  of 
it;  and  the  Emperor  will  tell  me  what  to  do  with 
Fifi  and  her  money." 

The  guard  was  drawn  up  into  a  hollow  square, 
their  splendid  uniforms  making  a  splash  of  color 
in  the  dull  gray  day,  their  arms  shining,  their 
bronzed  countenances  and  steady  eyes  fit  to  face 
the  great  god  Mars  himself.  Presently  an  electric 
thrill  flashed  through  every  soldier  and  each  of  the 
crowd  of  onlookers,  as  when  a  demigod  appears 
among  the  lesser  sons  of  men — the  Emperor  ap 
peared,  stepping  quickly  across  the  courtyard. 

He  was  in  simple  dress  uniform,  and  had  with 
him  only  two  or  three  anxious-looking  officers ; 
for  he  was  then  the  eagle-eyed  general,  who  knew 
66 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

if  a  button  was  missing  or  a  strap  awry,  and  inci 
dentally  read  the  soul  of  the  man  before  him.  At 
once,  he  ordered  this  man  and  that  to  open  his 
knapsack;  one  piercing  glance  sufficed  to  see  in  it 
and  through  it.  He  had  a  musket  examined  here 
and  there,  and  in  a  flash  he  knew  if  everything 
was  as  it  should  be.  The  inspection  was  rapid, 
but  nothing  escaped  the  magic  eyes  of  the  Em 
peror.  All  was  in  order,  and  in  consequence,  Jove 
smiled. 

Cartouche  saw  that  the  Emperor  would  pass 
within  a  few  yards  of  him,  and  he  stood,  erect  and 
rigid,  at  "attention,"  waiting  for  the  lightning 
glance  to  find  him,  and,  just  as  he  expected,  the 
Emperor's  eye  swept  over  the  waiting  crowd,  rested 
a  moment  on  him,  recognized  him  instantly,  and 
as  Cartouche  made  a  slight  gesture  of  entreaty, 
nodded  to  him.  Five  minutes  after,  a  smart  young 
aide  stepped  up,  and  motioning  to  Cartouche, 
walked  toward  the  palace ;  Cartouche  followed. 

He  did  not  know  how  he  got  into  a  small  room 
on  the  ground  floor,  which  communicated  with  the 
Emperor's  cabinet.  He  was  hot  and  cold  and  red 
and  pale,  but  said  to  himself:  "Never  mind,  as 
soon  as  I  see  the  Emperor  I  shall  feel  as  cool  and 
67 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

easy  as  possible.  For  when  was  it  that  a  private 
soldier  was  not  at  his  ease  with  the  Emperor  ?  It  is 
the  bigwigs  who  think  they  know  something,  whom 
the  Emperor  frightens." 

There  was  a  long  wait,  but  after  a  while  the 
door  opened,  and  the  same  young  aide  ushered  him 
into  the  Emperor's  cabinet;  and  just  as  Cartouche 
had  known,  he  felt  as  easy  as  ever  in  his  life  as 
soon  as  he  found  himself  alone  with  the  Emperor. 

The  Emperor  sat  at  a  table,  leaning  his  elbow 
upon  it.  His  pale  and  classic  face  was  luminous 
with  a  smile  as  he  saw  Cartouche ;  he  had  no  more 
forgotten  the  first  man  across  the  bridge  at  Lodi 
than  Cartouche  had  forgotten  him. 

"Well,  my  friend,"  he  said,  smiling.  "I  was 
about  to  send  for  you,  because  I  have  found  out 
some  surprising  things  about  }rour  protegee,  Made 
moiselle  Fifi;  and  besides,  I  see  by  the  newspapers 
that  she  has  drawn  a  prize  of  a  hundred  thousand 
francs  in  the  lottery." 

"Yes,  Sire,"  replied  Cartouche,  "and  I  want  to 
ask  your  Majesty  what  I  am  to  do  with  Fifi's  hun 
dred  thousand  francs." 

"Good  God !"  cried  the  Emperor,  getting  up  and 
walking  about  the  room  with  his  hands  behind  his 
68 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

back,  "I  know  no  more  what  to  do  with  a  hundred 
thousand  francs  than  you  do ;  I  never  had  a  hun 
dred  thousand  francs  of  my  own  in  my  life.  I 
have  a  civil  list  of  forty  millions,  which  I  disburse 
for  the  benefit  of  the  state,  but  it  is  as  much  as  I 
can  do  to  keep  myself  and  my  wife  in  clothes. 
Women  arc  expensive  creatures,  Cartouche." 

"True,  your  Majesty,"  replied  Cartouche,  "and 
Fifi  does  not  know  what  to  do  with  money  when  she 
gets  it —  Then,  in  a  burst  of  confidence  he  told 
the  Emperor  about  the  thirty  francs  Fifi  had  saved 
up  for  a  cloak  and  invested  in  a  little  black  dog  in 
stead.  The  Emperor  threw  back  his  head  and 
laughed  heartily. 

"This  Fifi  must  be  a  character.  Well,  I  shall  ask 
Lebrun,  the  arch-treasurer,  to  give  us  his  advice 
about  Fifi's  hundred  thousand  francs.  But  sup 
pose  she  will  not  trust  you  and  me  and  the  arch- 
treasurer  with  her  money?" 

"I  don't  know  about  the  arch-treasurer,  your 
Majesty,  but  I  am  sure  Fifi  will  trust  you,  Sire, 
and  me.  But  what  is  to  be  done  with  Fifi  herself, 
is  puzzling  me." 

"That  can  be  easily  settled,  I  think.  You  re 
member  I  told  you,  when  I  found  her  name  was 
69 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Chiaramonti,  that  I  might  have  some  surprising 
news  about  her.  I  was,  this  very  morning,  con 
templating  sending  for  you.  Well,  this  young 
lady,  whom  you  found  crying  in  the  market-place 
at  Mantua,  I  have  discovered  is  the  granddaughter 
of  Barnabas  Gregory  Chiaramonti,  who  was  the 
first  cousin  and  playmate,  in  his  boyhood,  of  Greg 
ory  Barnabas  Chiaramonti,  now  reigning  over  the 
Holy  See  as  Pius  the  Seventh,  and  at  present, 
sojourning  as  my  guest  at  the  palace  of  Fontaine- 
bleau." 

Everything  reeled  before  Cartouche,  and  he  had 
to  hold  on  to  the  back  of  a  chair  to  keep  from 
falling. 

Some  minutes  passed.  The  world  was  changing 
its  aspect  so  rapidly  to  Cartouche  that  he  hardly 
recognized  it  as  the  same  old  planet  he  had  known 
for  thirty-five  years. 

The  Emperor  waited  until  Cartouche  had  a  little 
recovered  himself,  although  he  was  still  pale  and 
breathed  hard.  Then  the  Emperor  said : 

"I  shall  cause  the  Holy  Father  to  be  informed 
of  Fifi's  existence.  He  is  a  good  old  man,  although 
as  obstinate  as  the  devil.  Oh,  I  am  sure  we  can  ar- 


THE  GRAND  PRIZE 

range  for  Fifi;  and  then,  Cartouche,  how  about  a 
husband  for  her?" 

The  Emperor,  as  he  said  this,  looked  steadily  at 
Cartouche;  but  Cartouche,  looking  back  as  stead 
ily,  replied: 

"I  should  think  the  Holy  Father  would  arrange 
that,  your  Majesty." 

"True,"  replied  the  Emperor,  "but  I  wish  one 
of  my  deserving  young  officers  might  suit  the  Holy 
Father  as  Fifi's  husband.  I  say,  Cartouche,  how 
hard  life  is  sometimes !  Now,  because  Fifi  is  rich 
through  the  lottery  ticket  you  bought  her,  you 
can  never  hope  to  marry  her." 

"Oil,  your  Majesty,  that  could  not  have  been  in 
any  event,"  answered  Cartouche,  a  dull  red  showing 
through  his  dark  skin.  "I  am  sixteen  years  older 
than  Fifi,  and  I  have  a  stiff  leg,  and  although  I 
make  what  is  reckoned  a  good  living  for  a  man  like 
me,  it  is  not  the  sort  of  living  for  a  notary's  daugh 
ter  like  Fifi.  No,  your  Majesty;  I  love  Fifi,  but  I 
never  thought  to  make  her  my  wife.  She  deserves 
a  better  man  than  I  am." 

"Another  sort  of  a  man,  Cartouche,  but  not  a 
better  one,"  replied  the  Emperor,  gently  tweaking 


71 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Cartouche's  ear.  "I  shall  arrange  for  the  Holy 
Father  to  be  told  of  Fifi's  existence,  and  we  shall 
see  about  the  hundred  thousand  francs ;  and,  Car 
touche,  if  you  are  in  any  trouble  or  perplexity, 
come  to  your  Emperor." 

And  with  that,  Cartouche  knew  the  interview  was 
over,  and  he  went  away  with  a  heart  both  light  and 
heavy.  For  Cartouche  was  a  very  human  man  after 
all,  and  the  thought  of  Fifi's  having  a  husband 
made  the  whole  world  black  to  him. 


.72 


CHAPTER  IV 

COURTSHIP    AND    CRIBBAGE 

Behold  Fifi,  a  fortnight  afterward,  installed  in 
a  quiet  and  correct  apartment  in  the  Rue  de 
1'Echelle,  under  the  charge  of  a  certain  Madame 
Bourcet,  who  was  as  quiet  and  correct  as  her  apart 
ment.  And  Madame  Bourcet  had  a  nephew,  Louis 
Bourcet,  more  quiet  and  more  correct  even  than 
herself,  and  he  aspired  to  marry  Fifi  and  her  hun 
dred  thousand  francs. 

It  was  all  like  a  dream  to  Fifi.  The  Emperor 
had  been  as  good  as  his  word.  He  had  consulted 
Lebrun,  the  arch-treasurer,  who  had  advised,  as 
Fifi  was  likely  to  be  provided  soon  with  a  husband, 
that  the  hundred  thousand  francs  be  again  depos 
ited  in  the  bank,  as  soon  as  it  was  drawn,  less  a 
small  amount  for  Fifi's  present  expenses.  He  ar 
gued,  that  it  would  simplify  matters  in  her  mar 
riage  contract  to  have  her  dot  in  cash — which  rec 
ommended  itself  to  all  who  knew,  as  sound  doctrine. 

He  had  also  been  asked  by  the  Emperor,  if  he 
73 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

knew  of  a  respectable  person  who  would  take  charge 
of  Fifi  for  the  present.  It  would  still  be  some 
time  before  the  day  came  which  she  and  Cartouche 
had  named  for  the  actual  payment  of  the  money. 
And  besides  it  was  necessary  to  prepare  for  Fifi's 
presentation  to  the  Holy  Father,  and  everybody, 
including  Fifi  herself,  agreed  that  certain  prelimi 
naries  of  dress  and  custom  be  arranged  for  that 
momentous  interview.  Lebrun  had  bethought  him 
of  Madame  Bourcet,  whose  deceased  husband  had 
been  a  hanger-on  of  the  arch-treasurer's.  Thus  it 
was  that  the  day  after  Fifi  finished  her  engage 
ment  at  the  Imperial  Theater,  Cartouche  had  de 
posited  her  and  her  boxes  in  the  quiet  apartment  of 
the  quiet  Madame  Bourcet. 

There  was  one  box  which  she  particularly  treas 
ured  and  would  not  let  out  of  her  sight  from  the 
time  it  was  put  into  the  van  until  it  was  placed  in 
the  large,  cold,  handsome  room  which  was  set  aside 
for  her  in  Madame  Bourcet's  apartment.  No  one 
but  Fifi  knew  what  was  in  this  box.  It  contained 
her  whole  theatrical  wardrobe,  consisting  of  three 
costumes,  and  her  entire  assortment  of  wigs,  old 
shoes,  cosmetics  and  such  impedimenta.  Fifi  would 
not  have  parted  with  these  for  half  her  fortune. 
74 


COURTSHIP  AND  CRIBBAGE 

They  would  be  something  real,  substantial  and  fa 
miliar  in  her  new  environment.  They  gave  her  a 
mystic  hold  upon  the  street  of  the  Black  Cat,  upon 
the  Imperial  Theater,  and  upon  Cartouche,  so  Fifi 
felt. 

Toto  was  brought  along  with  the  boxes,  but 
met  with  such  a  cool  reception  from  Madame  Bour- 
cet  that  he  declined  to  remain ;  nor  would  Madame 
Bourcet  admit  a  dog  of  his  theatrical  antecedents 
in  her  family.  Nothing  had  been  said  about  a 
dog;  she  disliked  dogs,  because  they  barked;  there 
was  no  place  for  him  in  the  apartment.  Toto 
showed  his  understanding  of  Madame  Bourcet's 
attitude  toward  him  by  deliberately  turning  his 
back  on  her,  and  walking  out  of  the  house  after 
Cartouche.  Fifi  said  not  a  word.  She  was  too 
dazed  to  make  any  protest.  Cartouche's  honest 
heart  was  wrung  when  he  left  her  sitting  silent 
and  alone  in  Madame  Bourcet's  drawing-room. 

It  was  a  large,  dull  room  with  a  snuff -colored  car 
pet  on  the  floor,  snuff-colored  furniture  and  snuff- 
colored  curtains  to  the  windows,  which  overlooked 
a  great,  quiet  courtyard.  No  wonder  that  Fifi,  as 
soon  as  Cartouche  left  her,  rushed  into  her  own 
room,  which  adjoined  the  drawing-room,  and  open- 
To 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

ing  her  treasured  box,  took  out  an  old  white  wig, 
and  clasping  it  to  her  bosom,  rocked  to  and  fro  in 
an  agony.  There  was  but  one  thing  in  the  box 
that  was  not  hers,  and  that  was  a  wooden  jave 
lin  which  Cartouche  had  used  with  great  effect  in 
his  part  of  the  centurion  of  the  Pretorian  Guard. 
It  was  rather  a  commonplace  looking  javelin  in 
the  cold  light  of  day,  but  Fifi  held  that,  too,  to 
her  breast;  it  was  those  things  that  kept  her  from 
losing  her  mind ;  they  made  her  feel  that  after  all, 
the  old  life  existed,  and  was  not  a  nightmare,  like 
the  present. 

With  the  moral  support  of  the  wig  and  the 
javelin  she  was  enabled  to  compose  herself,  and 
to  meet  Madame  Bourcet  and  Louis  Bourcet,  the 
nephew,  and  as  Fifi  shrewdly  suspected,  the  per 
son  assigned  to  become  the  future  owner  of  her 
hundred  thousand  francs.  But  Fifi  had  some  ideas 
of  her  own  concerning  her  marriage,  which,  al 
though  lying  dormant  for  a  time,  were  far  from 
moribund. 

For  this  first  evening  in  her  snuff-colored  house, 
Fifi,  with  a  heavy  heart,  put  on  her  best  gown ;  it 
was  very  red  and  very  skimpy,  but  Fifi.  had  been 


76 


COURTSHIP  AND  CRIBBAGE 

told  she  looked  charming  in  it,  which  was  the  truth ; 
but  it  didn't  seem  to  charm  Madame  Bourcet,  when 
Fifi  finally  presented  herself. 

Madame  Bourcet  was  a  small,  obstinate,  kindly, 
narrow-minded  woman,  who  went  about  measuring 
the  universe  with  her  own  tape  line.  Louis  Bourcet 
proved  to  be  Madame  Bourcet  in  trousers.  Fifi 
thought,  if  Louis  were  dressed  up  in  his  aunt's  pet 
ticoats  and  Madame  Bourcet  were  to  put  on  Louis' 
trousers,  nobody  could  tell  them  apart. 

Before  this  interesting  youth  was  presented  to 
Fifi,  Madame  Bourcet  informed  her  that  Louis 
was  the  most  correct  young  advocate  in  Paris  and 
had  not  a  fault.  After  this  promising  introduc 
tion,  Fifi  hated  Louis  at  first  sight;  but  with  that 
overwhelming  sense  of  strangeness  and  of  being 
led  blindly  toward  an  unknown  fate,  Fifi  gave  no 
sign  of  dislike  toward  the  most  correct  young  ad 
vocate  in  Paris,  and  the  man  without  a  fault. 

As  for  Louis  Bourcet,  he  thought  that  a  discern 
ing  Providence  had  dropped  Fifi,  with  her  hundred 
thousand  francs,  into  his  mouth,  as  it  were.  He 
knew  that  she  had  been  an  actress  in  a  poor  little 
theater;  but  she  was  a  Chiaramonti,  her  grand- 


77 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

father  was  own  cousin  to  the  Holy  Father,  and 
the  hundred  thousand  francs  covered  a  multitude 
of  sins. 

And  it  was  another  of  the  rewards  of  a  judi 
cious  Providence  that  Fifi's  money  had  come  to 
her  as  it  had — dropping  from  the  sky  into  her 
lap.  There  was  no  prying  father,  no  meddling 
trustee  to  interfere  with  her  prospective  husband's 
future  control  of  it.  Louis  Bourcet  was  honest,  if 
conceited,  and  meant  to  do  a  good  part  by  Fifi. 
He  contemplated  making  her  exactly  like  his  aunt, 
in  every  respect;  and  as  Fifi  was  only  nineteen, 
Louis  had  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  with  his  au 
thority  as  a  husband,  together  with  his  personal 
charms,  he  would  be  able  to  mold  Fifi  to  his  will,  and 
make  her  rapturously  happy  in  the  act  of  doing  it. 

As  soon  as  Fifi  was  established  in  Madame  Bour- 
cet's  apartment,  Louis  began  to  lay  siege  to  her. 
Regularly  every  evening  at  eight  o'clock,  he  ar 
rived — to  pay  his  respects  to  his  aunt.  Regularly 
did  he  propose  to  play  a  game  of  cribbage  with 
Fifi:  a  dull  and  uninteresting  game,  which  in 
volved  counting — and  counting  had  always  been  a 
weak  point  with  Fifi — she  always  counted  her  sal 
ary  at  too  much,  and  her  expenses  at  too  little. 
78 


COURTSHIP  AND  CRIBBAGE 

Her  counting  at  cribbage  determined  Louis  to 
keep  the  family  purse  himself,  after  they  were  mar 
ried — for  Louis  looked  forward  securely  to  this 
event.  Regularly  at  nine  o'clock  Madame  Bourcct 
fell  asleep,  or  professed  to  fall  asleep,  peacefully  in 
her  armchair.  Regularly,  Louis  improved  the 
opportunity  by  telling  Fifi  how  much  his  income 
was,  going  into  the  minutest  detail.  That,  how 
ever,  took  only  a  short  time ;  but  much  more  was 
consumed  in  telling  how  he  spent  it.  A  very  little 
wine;  no  cards  or  billiards;  a  solemn  visit  four 
times  the  year  to  the  Theatre  Fran9aise  to  see  a 
classic  play,  and  a  fortnight  in  summer  in  the 
country.  Such  was  the  life  which  Louis  subtly  pro 
posed  that  Fifi  should  lead  with  him. 

Fifi  listened,  dazed  and  silent.  The  room  was 
so  quiet,  so  quiet,  and  at  that  hour  all  was  life, 
bustle,  gaiety  and  movement  at  the  Imperial  Thea 
ter.  She  knew  to  the  very  moment  what  Car 
touche  was  doing,  and  what  Toto  was  doing; 
and  there  was  that  hateful  minx,  Julie  Campionet, 
being  rapturously  applauded  in  parts  which  were 
as  much  Fifi's  as  the  clothes  upon  Fifi's  back — for 
Julie  Campionet  had  promptly  succeeded  to  Fifi's 
vacant  place,  in  spite  of  Cartouche.  All  this  dis- 
79 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

tracted  Fifi's  attention  from  the  nightly  game  of 
cribbage  and  made  her  count  worse  than  ever. 

And  so  Fifi  began  to  live,  for  the  first  time, 
without  love  and  without  work.  Only  the  other 
day,  she  remembered,  she  had  been  hungry  and 
hard-worked  and  happy ;  and  now  she  was  neither 
hungry  nor  hard-worked,  but  assuredly,  she  was 
not  happy. 

She  had  not  seen  Cartouche  since  the  day  he 
left  her  and  her  boxes  in  the  Rue  de  1'Echelle, 
and  had  walked  off  with  Toto,  and,  incidentally, 
with  all  of  Fifi's  happiness.  She  had  directed  him 
to  come  to  see  her  often,  and  he  had  not  once  been 
near  her!  At  this  thought  Fifi  clenched  her  little 
fists  with  rage:  Cartouche  was  her  own — her  very 
own — and  how  dared  he  treat  her  in  this  manner? 

In  the  beginning,  every  day  Fifi  expected  him, 
and  would  run  to  the  window  twenty  times  in  an 
afternoon.  But  he  neither  came  nor  wrote.  After 
a  while,  Fifi's  heart  became  sore  and  she  burst  out 
before  Madame  Bourcet  and  Louis: 

"Cartouche  has  not  come  to  see  me;  he  has  not 
even  written." 

"But,    my    dear    child,"    remonstrated    Madame 


80 


COURTSHIP  AND  CRIBBAGE 

Bourcet,  "you  surely  do  not  expect  to  keep  up  a 
correspondence  with  a — a — person  like  this  Mon 
sieur — what — do — you — call — him — 

"Cartouche!"  cried  Fifi,  opening  her  eyes  very 
wide  indeed.  "Why,  Cartouche  has  done  every 
thing  for  me !  He  taught  me  all  I  know  about  act 
ing,  and  he  always  carried  my  fagots  upstairs, 
and  showed  me  how  to  clean  my  white  shoes  when 
they  became  soiled,  and — 

Fifi  stopped.  She  could  have  told  a  great  deal 
more;  not  only  that  Cartouche  showed  her  how  to 
clean  her  white  shoes,  but  that  he  actually  took 
the  shoes  off  her  poor  little  feet  when  she  was  so, 
so  tired;  and  Cartouche  must  have  been  tired,  too, 
having  been  on  his  legs — or  rather  his  leg  and  a 
half — all  the  day  and  evening.  These,  and  other 
reminiscences  of  Cartouche,  in  the  capacity  of 
lady's  maid,  cook,  and  what  not,  occurred  to  her 
quick  memory,  almost  overwhelming  her.  It 
seemed  to  her  as  if  he  had  done  all  for  her  that  her 
mother  had  once  done,  but  she  could  not  speak  of 
it  before  Madame  Bourcet,  still  less  Louis  Bour 
cet.  Imagine  the  most  correct  young  advocate  in 
Paris  taking  Fifi's  shoes  off,  because  she  wTas  tired ! 
Louis  would  have  let  her  die  of  fatigue  before  he 
81 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

would   have   committed   this   horrid   crime,   as   he 
conceived  it. 

So  Fifi  checked  the  ebullition  that  was  rising  in 
her,  and  kept  her  head  and  held  her  tongue.  But 
when  she  was  once  alone  in  her  own  large,  solemn 
room,  fitter  for  a  dowager  duchess  than  for  little 
Fifi,  she  poured  out  her  soul  in  a  letter  to  Car 
touche — thus : 

"Cartouche — Why  haven't  you  been  to  see  me? 
Cartouche,  I  believe  you  have  forgotten  me — that 
odious  Julie  Campionet  has  played  me  some  trick, 
I  know  she  has.  Cartouche,  having  money  is  not 
all  we  thought  it  was.  It  is  very  dull  being  rich 
and  certain  of  one's  dinner  every  day.  Madame 
Bourcet  and  I  went  out  yesterday  and  bought  a 
gown.  Cartouche,  do  you  remember  when  I  had 
saved  up  the  thirty  francs  to  buy  a  cloak,  and 
bought  Toto,  my  darling  Tbto,  instead?  And 
how  angry  you  were  with  me?  And  then  you  gave 
me  the  cloak  out  of  your  own  money  ?  Don't  send 
Toto  to  see  me — it  would  break  my  heart.  The 
gown  I  bought  yesterday  is  hideous.  It  is  a  dark 
brown  with  green  spots.  Madame  Bourcet  se 
lected  it.  There  was  a  beautiful  pink  thing,  with 
82 


COURTSHIP  AND  CRIBBAGE 

a  great  many  spangles,  that  I  wanted.  It  is  just 
like  the  stuff  that  Toto's  ballet  skirt  is  made  of. 
But  the  gown  is  for  me  to  wear  the  day  I  am  pre 
sented  to  the  Holy  Father,  and  Madame  Bourcet 
said  the  pink  spangled  thing  would  not  do.  Then 
she  bought  me  some  black  lace  to  wear  over  my 
head  that  day,  and  she  paid  a  cruel  price  for  it, 
but  the  shops  where  you  get  new  things  are  very 
dear.  Madame  Bourcet  will  not  let  me  go  to  the 
second-hand  shops.  Do  you  remember  the  blue 
silk  robe  that  Monsieur  Duvernet  made  me  buy  a 
year  ago  for  forty  francs,  and  how  it  turned  out 
to  have  a  big  grease-spot  in  the  back,  and  I  was 
so  afraid  the  spot  would  be  seen,  that  it  almost 
ruined  my  performance  as  Leontine  in  'Papa 
Bouchard'?  And  how  do  you  get  your  costumes 
to  hang  together  when  I  am  not  there  to  sew  them? 
I  know  you  are  coming  all  to  pieces  by  this  time. 
Have  you  forgotten  how  I  used  to  sew  you  up? 
Oh,  Cartouche,  have  you  forgotten  all  these  things? 
I  think  of  them  all  the  time.  I  wake  up  in  the 
night,  thinking  I  hear  Toto  barking,  and  it  is 
only  Madame  Bourcet  snoring.  Cartouche,  if  you 
don't  come  to  see  me  soon  you  will  break  my  heart. 

Fin." 
83 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Cartouche  read  this  letter  sitting  on  the  edge 
of  his  poor  bed.  His  eyes  grew  moist,  and  the 
foolish  fellow  actually  kissed  Fifi's  name;  but  he 
said  to  himself  resolutely : 

"No,  I  will  not  go  to  her.  It  will  only  make 
the  struggle  harder.  She  must  separate  herself 
from  the  old  life,  and  the  quicker,  the  better.  The 
pain  is  sharp,  but  it  will  not  last — for  her." 

And  he  was  such  a  fool  that  he  read  the  letter 
aloud  to  Toto,  who  was  huddled  close  to  him ;  and 
then  the  two  who  loved  Fifi  so  dearly — the  man 
and  the  dog — rubbed  noses,  and  mourned  to 
gether,  Toto  uttering  a  howl  of  distress  and  long 
ing  that  cut  Cartouche  to  the  heart. 

"Come,"  said  he,  putting  the  dog  aside,  and  ris 
ing,  "I  can't  go  on  this  way.  One  would  think  I 
was  sorry  that  Fifi  is  better  off  than  she  ever  hoped 
or  dreamed." 

Then  he  went  to  his  cupboard,  and  took  out  a 
little  frayed  white  satin  slipper — one  of  Fifi's  slip 
pers — and  held  it  tenderly  in  his  hand,  while  his 
poor  heart  was  breaking.  Next  day,  came  a  letter 
of  another  sort  from  Fifi.  She  was  very,  very  an 
gry,  and  wrote  in  a  large  hand,  and  with  very 
black  ink. 

84 


COURTSHIP  AND  CRIBBAGE 

"Cartouche:  I  will  not  stand  your  conduct.  I 
give  you  warning;  I  will  not  permit  it.  You  are 
responsible  for  my  being  here.  But  for  you  and 
that—  "  here  a  word  was  erased,  but  Cartouche  saw 
the  faint  outlines  of  "devilish" — "lottery  ticket,  I 
should  have  still  been  in  my  little  room  under  the 
roof — I  should  still  have  you  and  Toto.  Oh,  Car 
touche,  I  shall  have  to  marry  Louis  Bourcet — I 
see  it,  I  know  it,  I  feel  it.  He  has  not  a  fault  in 
the  world,  so  Madame  Bourcet  says.  Imagine 
what  a  brute  I  shall  appear  alongside  of  him!  He 
plays  cribbage.  That  is  his  only  dissipation.  But 
I  see  that  I  must  marry  him,  for  this  life  I  am 
leading  can  not  last.  Madame  Bourcet  tells  me 
she  has  four  or  five  diseases,  any  one  of  which  is 
liable  to  carry  her  off  any  day ;  and  then  I  should 
be  left  alone  in  Paris  with  a  hundred  thousand 
francs.  Something — everything  seems  to  be  driv 
ing  me  toward  marrying  Louis  Bourcet.  Poor 
Louis !  How  sorry  he  will  be  after  he  gets  me ! 
Next  week,  Madame  Bourcet  takes  me  out  to  Fon- 
taincbleau  where  I  am  to  be  presented  to  the  Holy 
Father.  The  gown  has  come  home,  and  it  is  more 
hideous  than  it  was  in  the  shop.  If  the  Holy 
Father  has  any  taste  in  dress  that  gown  will  ruin 
85 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

my  chances  with  him.  Cartouche,  I  am  not  joking 
—I  can  never  joke  any  more.  But  I  will  not  put 
up  with  your  behavior.  Do  you  understand  me? 
It  is  Fifi  who  says  this.  You  know,  you  always 
told  me  when  I  flew  into  a  rage  I  could  frighten 
Monsieur  Duvernet.  You  remember,  he  often  ran 
into  his  closet  and  locked  the  door  when  I  was 
storming  at  him  at  the  theater.  I  am  much  more 
angry  now.  Fifi." 

To  this  letter  also  Cartouche  made  no  answer. 
He  did  not  know  the  ways  of  ladies  who  had  dow 
ries  of  a  hundred  thousand  francs.  He  had  heard 
they  were  always  supplied  with  husbands  by  some 
one  duly  empowered;  and  these  decisions,  he  imag 
ined,  were  like  the  laws  of  the  Medes  and  Persians. 
He  felt  for  his  poor  little  Fifi ;  her  vivid,  incoher 
ent  words  were  perfectly  intelligible  to  him  and 
went  like  a  knife  into  his  heart.  He  mused  over 
them  in  such  poignant  grief  that  he  could  hardly 
drag  himself  through  his  multitude  of  duties.  He 
had  no  life  or  spirit  to  keep  watch  over  Duvernet ; 
and  Julie  Campionet,  one  fine  morning,  took  ad 
vantage  of  this  and,  walking  the  manager  off  to 
the  mairie,  married  him  out  of  hand.  The  first 
86 


COURTSHIP  AND  CRIBBAGE 

thing  Cartouche  knew  of  it  was  when  the  bride 
groom,  with  a  huge  white  favor  in  his  buttonhole, 
marched  into  Cartouche's  garret. 

"She's  done  it,  Cartouche,"  groaned  Duvernet. 
"They  all  do." 

Cartouche  knew  perfectly  well  what  poor  Duver 
net  meant. 

"She  has,  has  she?"  he  roared,  "and  did  you  tell 
her  about  the  three  other  women  you  have  married, 
and  got  yourself  in  such  a  precious  mess  with?" 

"Yes,"  groaned  Duvernet,  seating  himself  on  the 
side  of  the  bed.  "She  knows  all  about  it — but  I 
couldn't  explain  which  ones  had  sued  me  for  di 
vorce,  and  which  I  had  sued.  But  Julie  didn't 
mind.  You  see,  she  is  thirty-six  years  old,  and 
never  has  been  married,  and  she  made  up  her  mind 
it  wasn't  worth  while  to  wait  longer;  and  when 
women  get  that  way,  it's  no  use  opposing  them." 

"The  last  time,"  shouted  Cartouche,  quite  beside 
himself  at  the  manager's  folly,  for  which  he  himself 
felt  twinges  of  conscience,  "the  last  time  you  said  it 
was  because  she  was  a  widow !  Duvernet,  as  sure 
as  you  are  alive,  you  will  bring  yourself  behind  the 
bars  of  Ste.  Pelagic." 

"If  I  do,"  cried  poor  Duvernet,  stung  by  Car- 
87 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

touche's  reproaches,  "whose  fault  will  it  be?  If 
you  had  kept  an  eye  on  Julie  Campionet,  this  never 
would  have  happened.  It  was  you  who  bought 
that  cursed  lottery  ticket  for  Fifi,  and  lost  me  the 
only  leading  lady  I  ever  had  who  didn't  insist  on 
marrying  me  against  my  will." 

Here  was  a  cud  for  Cartouche  to  chew  upon: 
young  ladies  reproaching  him  bitterly  for  giving 
them  a  hundred  thousand  francs  in  cash,  and 
happy  bridegrooms  reviling  him  because  through 
him  they  secured  brides.  Cartouche  was  too 
stunned  by  it  all  to  answer.  The  only  thing  he 
could  do  was  to  try  to  keep  Duvernet's  unfortu 
nate  weakness  from  landing  him  in  jail.  Luckily, 
none  of  his  wives  had  any  use  for  Duvernet,  after  a 
very  short  probation,  and  as  he  had  no  property  to 
speak  of,  and  the  earnings  of  the  Imperial  Theater 
were  uncertain,  there  was  no  money  to  be  squeezed 
out  of  him.  So,  unless  the  authorities  should  get 
wind  of  Duvernet's  matrimonial  ventures,  which  he 
persisted  in  regarding  as  mere  escapades,  into 
which  he  was  led  by  a  stronger  will  than  his  own, 
he  would  be  allowed  to  roam  at  large. 

"At  all  events,"  said  Cartouche,  after  a  while, 
"I  can  make  Julie  Campionet  behave  herself  as 
88 


COURTSHIP  AND  CRIBBAGE 

long  as  she  is  willing  to  stay  here  by  threatening  to 
lodge  an  information  against  both  of  you  with  the 
magistrate." 

"Do,"  anxiously  urged  Duvernet.  "I  would  not 
mind  serving  a  short  term  in  prison  if  Julie  gets 
troublesome.  Well,  all  men  are  fools  where  women 
are  concerned." 

"No,  they  are  not,"  replied  Cartouche  darkly; 
"there  are  a  few  bachelors  left." 

"It  is  fate,  destiny,  what  you  will,"  said  the 
mournful  bridegroom.  "That  woman,  Julie  Cam- 
pionet — or  Duvernet  she  is  now — meant  to  marry 
me  from  the  start,  just  like  the  rest.  Oh,  if  only 
little  Fifi  were  here  once  more !" 

If  only  little  Fifi  were  here  once  more!  Poor 
Cartouche's  lonely  heart  echoed  that  wish. 


89 


CHAPTER  V 

A    PARCEL    OF    OLD    SHOES 

The  day  arrived  when  Fifi's  hundred  thousand 
francs  was  to  be  paid  over  to  her  and  deposited  in 
the  bank.  Fifi  had  taken  for  granted  that  Car 
touche  would  be  with  her  on  that  momentous  occa 
sion;  but  when  the  day  came  no  Cartouche  ap 
peared,  so  she  was  forced  to  ask  Madame  Bourcet 
and  Louis  Bourcet  to  attend  her.  This  they  both 
agreed  to  do,  with  the  utmost  alacrity. 

Fifi  still  remained  perfectly  and  strangely  docile, 
but  her  mind  had  begun  to  work  normally  once 
more,  and  Fifi  had  a  very  strong  little  mind,  which 
could  work  with  great  vigor.  She  had  the  enor 
mous  advantage  of  belonging  to  that  class  of  per 
sons  who  always  know  exactly  what  they  want,  and 
what  they  do  not  want.  She  did  not  want  to  have 
her  money  where  she  could  not  get  it;  and  banks 
seemed  to  her  mysterious  institutions  which  were 
designed  to  lock  people's  money  up  and  prevent 
them  from  getting  the  benefit  of  it,  but  offered  no 
90 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

security  whatever  that  somebody  other  than  the 
owner  should  not  get  the  benefit  of  it.  She  had 
heretofore  kept  all  her  money — when  she  had  any 
— sewed  up  in  her  mattress,  in  a  place  where  she 
could  feel  it,  if  she  wished  to ;  and  the  mattress  was 
perfectly  safe ;  whereas,  she  had  no  guaranty  that 
the  bank  was. 

So  Fifi  quietly  but  decisively  made  up  her  mind 
that  she  would  get  hold  of  her  hundred  thousand 
francs  and  put  it  in  a  safe  place — that  is  to  say, 
the  mattress.  It  might  not  be  difficult  to  manage. 
Madame  Bourcet  told  her  she  must  take  a  tin  box 
with  her,  and  kindly  provided  the  box;  but  it 
was  not  impossible — Suppose,  thought  Fifi,  she 
could  quietly  transfer  the  money  to  a  large  reticule 
she  possessed,  and  put  something,  old  shoes,  for 
example,  in  the  tin  box  she  would  deposit  in  the 
bank?  She  had  plenty  of  old  shoes  in  her  mys 
terious  trunk.  Fifi  was  charmed  with  this  notion. 

On  the  morning  of  the  great  day  she  took  the 
precaution  to  fill  her  reticule  with  old  shoes,  fasten 
it  to  her  belt,  and  it  was  so  well  concealed  by  her 
flowing  red  cloak  that  nobody  but  herself  knew 
she  had  a  reticule.  Madame  Bourcet,  Louis  and 
herself  were  to  go  in  the  carriage  of  Madame  Bour- 
91 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

cct's  brother,  a  professor  of  mathematics,  who  had 
married  a  fortune  of  two  hundred  thousand  francs, 
and  was  held  up  as  a  model  of  wisdom  and  a 
prodigy  of  virtue  therefor. 

The  carriage  arrived,  and  the  party  set  out. 
Louis  Bourcet  regarded  Fifi  with  an  eye  of  extreme 
favor.  She  had  never  asserted  herself,  or  contra 
dicted  any  one,  or  said  a  dozen  words  consecutively, 
since  she  had  been  with  Madame  Bourcet ;  and  she 
had  a  hundred  thousand  francs  of  her  own. 

Louis  thought  he  could  not  have  found  a  wife 
better  suited  to  him  if  she  had  been  made  to  order. 
As  she  was  the  granddaughter  to  the  Pope's 
cousin,  her  experiences  in  the  street  of  the  Black 
Cat  were  evenly  balanced  by  her  other  advantages. 

As  they  jolted  soberly  along,  Fifi's  mind  was 
busy  with  her  provident  scheme  of  guarding 
against  banks.  When  they  reached  the  bank — a 
large  and  imposing  establishment — they  were 
ushered  into  a  private  room,  where  sat  several  offi 
cial-looking  persons.  A  number  of  transfers 
were  made  in  writing,  the  money  was  produced, 
counted,  and  placed  in  Fifi's  tin  box. 

This  ended  that  part  of  the  formalities.  Then 
the  box  was  to  be  sealed  up  and  placed  in  a  strong 
92 


A  PARCEL  or  OLD  SHOES 

box  hired  from  the  bank.  Fifi  herself  carried  the 
tin  box  under  her  cloak,  and,  accompanied  by 
Madame  Bourcet  and  Louis,  went  to  another  apart 
ment  in  the  bank,  from  which  they  were  taken  to 
the  strong  room  in  the  basement.  There  Fifi  sol 
emnly  handed  over  her  tin  box  to  be  tied  and  sealed, 
and  accepted  a  receipt  for  it ;  and  it  was  put  away 
securely  in  a  little  dungeon  of  its  own. 

Never  was  a  parcel  of  old  shoes  treated  with 
greater  respect,  for  in  it  reposed  the  contents  of 
Fifi's  reticule,  while  in  the  reticule  peacefully  lay  a 
hundred  thousand  francs.  It  had  been  done  under 
the  noses  of  Madame  Bourcet  and  Louis — and  with 
the  utmost  neatness — for  Fifi  was  accustomed  to 
acting,  and  was  in  no  way  discomposed  by  having 
people  about  her,  but  wras  rather  steadied  and  em 
boldened. 

On  the  return  home  in  the  carriage  Louis  Bour 
cet  treated  her  with  such  distinguished  considera 
tion  that  he  was  really  afraid  his  attentions,  in 
cluding  the  numerous  games  of  cribbage,  were 
compromising,  but  Fifi  noted  him  not.  Her  mind 
was  fixed  on  the  contents  of  her  reticule,  and  the 
superior  satisfaction  it  is  to  have  one's  money  safe 
in  a  mattress  where  one  can  get  at  it,  instead  of 
93 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

being  locked  up  in  a  bank  where  everybody  could 
get  at  it  except  one's  self. 

That  night,  while  Madame  Bourcet  snored  and 
snoozed  peacefully,  Fifi,  by  the  light  of  a  solitary 
candle,  was  down  on  her  knees,  sewing  her  money 
up  in  the  mattress.  She  made  a  hard  little  knob 
of  it  right  in  the  middle,  so  she  could  feel  it  every 
time  she  turned  over  in  bed.  Then,  climbing  into 
bed,  she  slept  the  sleep  of  conscious  innocence  and 
peace. 

The  next  event  in  Fifi's  life  was  to  be  her  pres 
entation  to  the  Holy  Father.  For  this  Madame 
Bourcet  severely  coached  Fifi.  She  was  taught 
how  to  walk,  how  to  speak,  how  to  curtsey,  how  to 
go  in  and  how  to  go  out  of  the  room  on  the  great 
occasion.  Fifi  learned  with  her  new  docility  and 
obedience,  but  had  a  secret  conviction  that  she 
would  forget  it  all  as  soon  as  the  occasion  came  to 
use  it. 

A  week  or  two  after  Fifi  had  rescued  her  money 
from  the  bank  the  day  arrived  for  her  presentation 
to  the  Holy  Father,  who  had  personally  appointed 
the  time.  Since  Fifi's  journey  from  Italy  in  her 
childhood,  she  had  never  been  so  far  from  the  street 
of  the  Black  Cat  as  Fontaincbleau,  and  the  length 
94 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

and  expense  of  the  journey  impressed  her  extreme 
ly.  Louis  Bourcet  did  not  accompany  Madame 
Bourcet  and  Fifi  on  the  visit,  but  it  was  under 
stood  that  Madame  Bourcet  should  present  his  ap 
plication  for  Fifi's  hand. 

It  was  a  soft,  mild  day  in  February,  with  a  hint 
of  spring  in  the  air,  that  they  set  forth  in  a  rickety 
coach  for  Fontainebleau.  Fifi  wore  the  hideous 
brown  gown  with  the  green  spots  in  it,  and  felt 
exactly  as  she  did  the  night  she  played  Leontine  in 
the  blue  silk  robe  with  the  grease  spot  in  the  back. 
If  the  grease  spot  had  been  noticed  everything 
would  have  been  ruined — and  if  the  Holy  Father 
should  notice  the  brown  gown!  Fifi  felt  that  it 
would  mean  wholesale  disaster.  She  comforted  her 
self,  however,  with  the  reflection  that  the  Holy 
Father  probably  knew  nothing  about  ladies' 
gowns;  and  then,  she  had  never  forgotten  the  ex 
treme  kindness  of  the  Holy  Father's  eyes  the  night 
she  peered  at  him  in  the  coach. 

"And  after  all,"  she  thought,  "although  Car 
touche  laughed  at  me  for  thinking  the  Holy  Father 
had  looked  at  me  that  night,  I  know  he  did — per 
haps  I  am  like  my  father  or  my  grandfather,  and 
that  was  why  he  looked."  And  then  she  remem- 
95 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

bercd  what  Cartouche  had  said  about  the  private 
soldiers  not  being  afraid  when  the  Emperor  talked 
with  them.  "It  will  be  the  same  with  the  Holy 
Father,"  she  thought.  "He  is  so  far  above  me — 
why,  it  would  be  ridiculous  for  me  to  be  afraid  of 
him." 

It  took  all  of  three  hours  to  get  to  Fontaine- 
bleau,  and  Fifi  felt  that  the  world  was  a  very  large 
place  indeed.  They  drove  through  the  splendid 
park  and  dismounted  before  the  great  chateau. 
Then,  Madame  Bourcet  showing  some  cabalistic 
card  or  other  token,  it  was  understood  that  the  visit 
of  the  two  ladies  was  expected  by  the  Pope.  They 
were  escorted  up  the  great  horseshoe  stairs  and  into 
a  small  salon,  where  luncheon  was  served  to  them, 
after  their  long  drive.  Madame  Bourcet  was  too 
elegant  to  eat  much,  but  Fifi,  whose  appetite  had 
been  in  abeyance  ever  since  she  left  the  street  of 
the  Black  Cat,  revived,  and  she  devoured  her  share 
with  a  relish.  It  was  the  first  time  she  had  been 
hungry  since  she  had  had  enough  to  eat. 

Presently  a  sour-looking  ecclesiastic  came  to  es 
cort  them  to  the  presence  of  the  Holy  Father.   The 
ecclesiastic  was  clearly  in  a  bad  humor.     The  Holy 
Father  was  always  being  appealed  to  by  widows 
96 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

with  grievances,  real  or  imaginary,  young  ladies 
who  did  not  want  to  marry  the  husbands  selected 
for  them,  young  men  who  had  got  themselves  in 
discredit  with  their  families  or  superiors,  and  the 
Holy  Father  had  a  way  of  treating  these  sinners 
as  if  they  were  not  sinners  at  all.  Indeed,  he  often 
professed  himself  to  be  edified  by  their  pious  re 
pentance;  and  the  ecclesiastic  never  quite  under 
stood  whether  the  Holy  Father  was  quietly  amus 
ing  himself  at  the  expense  of  his  household  or  not. 
But  one  thing  was  certain  to  the  ecclesiastic's  mind : 
the  Holy  Father  had  not  that  horror  of  sinners 
which  the  world  commonly  has,  and  was  far  too 
easy  on  them. 

With  these  thoughts  in  mind,  he  introduced 
Madame  Bourcet  into  the  Pope's  cabinet,  while 
Fifi  remained  in  the  anteroom,  guarded  by  another 
ecclesiastic,  who  looked  much  more  human  than  his 
colleague.  This  last  one  thought  it  necessary  to 
infuse  courage  into  Fifi  concerning  the  coming  in 
terview,  but  to  his  amazement  found  Fifi  not  in  the 
least  afraid. 

"I  don't  know  why,  Monsieur,  I  should  be 
afraid,"  she  said.  "A  friend  of  mine — Cartouche 
— says  the  private  soldiers  are  not  the  least  afraid 
97 


THE    FORTUNES    OE    FIFI 

of  the  Emperor,  and  are  perfectly  at  ease  when  he 
speaks  to  them,  while  the  councillors  of  state  and 
the  marshals  and  the  great  nobles  can  not  look  him 
in  the  eye." 

"And  may  I  ask  who  is  this  Cartouche,  Made 
moiselle?"  asked  the  ecclesiastic. 

"He  is  a  friend  of  mine,"  replied  Fifi  warily. 

At  last,  after  twenty  minutes,  Madame  Bourcet 
came  out.  She  was  pale  and  agitated,  but  showed 
satisfaction  in  every  feature. 

"The  Holy  Father  approves  of  my  nephew,  pro 
vided  you  have  no  objection  to  him,"  she  whispered. 
And  the  next  moment  Fifi  found  herself  alone  with 
the  Holy  Father. 

Although  the  afternoon  was  mild  and  sunny,  a 
large  fire  was  burning  on  the  hearth,  and  close  to 
it,  in  a  large  armchair,  sat  Pius  the  Seventh.  He 
gave  Fifi  the  same  impression  of  whiteness  and  be 
nevolence  he  had  given  her  at  that  chance  meeting 
three  months  before. 

As  Fifi  entered  she  made  a  low  bow — not  the  one 
that  Madame  Bourcet  had  taught  her,  but  a  much 
better  one,  taught  her  by  her  own  tender  little 
heart.  And  instantly,  as  before,  there  was  an 
electric  sympathy  established  between  the  old  man 
98 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

and  the  young  girl,  as  the  old  and  young  eyes  ex 
changed  confidences. 

"My  child,"  were  the  Holy  Father's  first  words, 
in  a  voice  singularly  young  and  sweet  for  an  old 
man.  "I  have  seen  you  before,  and  now  I  know 
why  it  was  that  the  sight  of  your  eyes  so  moved 
me.  You  are  my  Barnabas'  granddaughter." 

And  then  Fifi  made  one  of  the  most  outlandish 
speeches  imaginable  for  a  young  girl  to  make  to 
the  Supreme  Pontiff.  She  said: 

"Holy  Father,  as  I  looked  into  your  eyes  that 
night  when  your  coach  was  passing  through  the 
street  of  the  Black  Cat,  I  said  to  myself,  'There  is 
an  old  man  with  a  father's  heart,'  and  I  felt  as  if 
I  had  seen  my  own  father." 

And  instead  of  meeting  this  speech  with  a  look 
of  cold  reproof,  the  Holy  Father's  eyes  grew  moist, 
and  he  said: 

"It  was  the  cry  of  kindred  between  us.  Now, 
sit  near  to  me — not  in  that  armchair." 

"Here  is  a  footstool,"  cried  Fifi,  and  drawing 
the  footstool  up  to  the  Holy  Father's  knees,  she 
seated  herself  with  no  more  fear  than  Cartouche 
had  of  his  Emperor. 

"Now,  my  child,"  said  the  Holy  Father,  "the 
99 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

old  must  always  be  allowed  to  tell  their  stories  first, 
— the  young  have  time  to  wait.  I  know  that  you 
can  not  have  seen  your  grandfather,  or  even  remem 
ber  your  own  father,  he  died  so  young." 

"Yes,  Holy  Father,  I  was  so  little  when  he  died." 

"I  could  have  loved  him  as  a  son,  if  I  had  known 
him,"  the  Holy  Father  continued,  speaking  softly 
as  the  old  do  of  a  bygone  time.  "But  never  was 
any  one  so  much  a  part  of  my  heart  as  Barnabas 
was.  We  were  born  within  a  month  of  each  other, 
at  Cesena,  a  little  old  town  at  the  foot  of  the  Apen 
nines.  I  think  I  never  saw  so  pretty  and  pleasant 
an  old  town  as  Cesena — so  many  fine  young  men 
and  excellent  maidens,  such  venerable  old  people. 
One  docs  not  see  such  nowadays." 

Fifi  said  nothing,  but  she  did  not  love  the  Holy 
Father  less  for  this  simplicity  of  the  old  which  is  so 
like  the  simplicity  of  the  young. 

"Barnabas  and  I  grew  up  together  in  an  old 
villa,  all  roses  and  honeysuckles  outside,  all  rats 
and  mice  within — but  we  did  not  mind  the  rats  and 
mice.  When  we  grew  out  of  our  babyhood  into 
two  naughty,  troublesome  boys,  we  thought  it  fine 
sport  to  hunt  the  poor  rats  and  torture  them.  I 
was  worse  in  that  respect  than  Barnabas,  who  was 
100 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

ever  a  better  boy  than  I.  But  we  had  other  amuse 
ments  than  that.  We  loved  to  climb  into  the  blue 
hills  about  Cescna,  and  when  we  were  old  enough 
to  be  trusted  by  ourselves  we  would  sometimes  spend 
days  in  those  far-off  hills,  with  nothing  but  bread 
and  cheese  and  wild  grapes  to  live  on.  We  slept 
at  night  on  the  ground,  rolled  in  our  blankets.  We 
were  hardy  youngsters,  and  I  never  had  sweeter 
sleep  than  in  those  summer  nights  on  the  hard 
ground,  with  the  kind  stars  keeping  watch  over 
us." 

Fifi  said  no  word.  The  old  man  was  living  over 
again  that  sweet,  young  time,  and  from  it  was 
borne  the  laughter,  faint  and  afar  off,  the  smiles 
so  softly  tender,  the  tears  robbed  of  all  their  salt- 
ness  ;  he  was  once  more,  in  thought,  a  little  boy 
with  his  little  playmate  on  the  sunny  slopes  of  the 
Apennines. 

Presently  he  spoke  again,  looking  into  Fifi's 
eyes,  so  like  those  of  the  dead  and  gone  comrade  of 
the  old  Cesena  days. 

"Barnabas,  although  of  better  natural  capacity 

than   I,  did   not  love  the  labor   of  reading.     He 

chose  that  I  should  read,  and  tell  him  what  I  read ; 

and  so  he  knew  all  that  I  knew  and  more  besides, 

101 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

being  of  sharper  and  more  observant  mind.  We 
never  had  a  difference  except  once.  It  was  over  a 
cherry  tart — what  little  gluttons  we  were !  When 
we  quarreled  about  the  tart  our  mothers  divided  it, 
and  for  punishment  condemned  us  both  to  eat  our 
share  alone.  And  what  do  you  think  was  the  re 
sult?  Neither  one  of  us  would  touch  it — and  then 
we  cried  and  made  up  our  quarrel ;  it  was  our  first 
and  last,  and  we  were  but  ten  years  old." 

Fifi  listened  with  glowing  eyes.  These  little 
stories  of  his  youth,  long  remembered,  made  Fifi 
feel  as  if  the  Holy  Father  were  very  human,  after 
all. 

The  old  man  paused,  and  his  expressive  eyes 
grew  dreamy  as  he  gazed  at  Fifi.  She  brought 
back  to  him,  as  never  before,  the  dead  and  gone 
time:  the  still,  ancient  little  town,  lying  as  quietly 
in  the  sunlight  as  in  the  moonlight,  the  peaceful 
life  that  flowed  there  so  placidly  and  innocently. 
He  seemed  to  hear  again  the  murmuring  of  the 
wind  in  the  fir  trees  of  the  old  garden  and  the  deli 
cate  cooing  of  the  blue  and  white  pigeons  in  the 
orchard.  Once  more  he  inhaled  the  aromatic  scent 
of  the  burning  pine  cones,  as  Barnabas  and  him 
self,  their  two  boyish  heads  together,  hung  over 
102 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

the  scanty  fire  in  the  great  vaulted  kitchen  of  the 
old  villa.  All,  all,  were  gone;  the  villa  had  fallen 
to  decay ;  the  orchard  and  the  garden  were  no 
more ;  only  the  solemn  fir  trees  and  the  dark  blue 
peaks  of  the  Apennines  remained  unchanged.  And 
here  was  a  girl  with  the  same  eyes,  dark,  yet  softly 
bright,  of  his  playfellow  and  more  than  brother  ef 
fifty  years  ago ! 

Fifi  spoke  no  word.  The  only  sound  in  the 
small,  vaulted  room  was  the  faint  crackling  of  the 
burning  logs,  across  which  a  brilliant  bar  of  sun 
light  had  crept  stealthily.  As  the  Holy  Father 
paused  and  looked  at  Fifi,  there  was  a  gentle  depre 
cation  in  his  glance;  he  seemed  to  be  saying: 
"Bear  with  age  a  while,  O  glorious  and  pathetic 
youth !  Let  me  once  more  dream  your  dreams, 
and  lay  aside  the  burden  of  greatness."  And  the 
old  man  did  not  continue  until  he  saw  in  Fifi's  eyes 
that  she  was  not  wearied  with  him;  then  he  spoke 
again. 

"When  we  were  ten  years  old  we  were  taught  to 
serve  on  the  altar.  Barnabas  served  with  such 
recollection,  such  beautiful  precision,  that  it  was 
like  prayer  to  see  him.  He  was  a  handsome  boy, 
and  in  his  white  surplice  and  red  cassock,  his  face 
103 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

glowing  with  the  noble  innocence  and  simplicity  of 
a  good  boyhood,  he  looked  like  a  young  arch 
angel." 

"And  yourself,  Holy  Father?"  asked  Fifi. 

"Ah,  I  was  very  unlike  Barnabas.  I  was  but 
an  ordinary-looking  boy,  and  I  often  fell  asleep 
while  I  was  sitting  by  the  priest  during  the  sermon, 
and  in  full  view  of  the  congregation.  We  had  a 
worthy  old  priest,  who  would  let  me  sleep  during 
the  sermon,  but  would  pinch  me  smartly  to  wake 
me  up  when  it  was  over  and  it  was  time  again  to 
go  on  the  altar.  So  I  devised  a  way  to  keep  my 
self  awake.  I  hid  a  picture  book  in  the  sleeve  of 
my  cassock,  and  during  the  sermon,  while  the  priest 
who  was  on  the  altar  had  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  one 
who  was  preaching  in  the  pulpit,  I  slipped  out 
my  picture  book,  and  began  to  look  at  it  stealthily, 
— but  not  so  stealthily  that  the  priest  did  not  see 
me,  and,  quietly  reaching  over,  took  it  out  of  my 
hand  and  put  it  in  the  pocket  of  his  cassock.  I 
plotted  revenge,  however.  Presently,  when  the 
priest  went  up  on  the  altar  and  is  forbidden  to 
leave  it,  he  turned  and  motioned  to  me  for  the 
water,  which  it  was  my  duty  to  have  ready.  I 
whispered  to  him,  'Give  me  my  picture  book,  and 
104 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

I  will  give  you  the  water.'  Of  course,  he  had  to 
give  me  the  picture  book,  and  then  I  gave  him  the 
water.  He  did  not  tell  rny  parents  on  me,  wherein 
he  failed  in  his  duty ;  but  he  gave  me,  after  mass, 
a  couple  of  sound  slaps — and  I  played  no  more 
tricks  on  him." 

"Holy  Father,  you  must  have  been  a  flesh-and- 
bloocl  boy,"  said  Fifi,  softly. 

The  Holy  Father  laughed — a  fresh,  youthful 
laugh,  like  his  voice. 

"Formerly  I  judged  myself  harshly.  Now  I 
know  that,  though  I  was  not  a  very  good  boy,  I 
was  not  a  bad  boy.  I  was  not  so  good  a  boy  as 
Barnabas.  He  had  no  vocation  for  the  priesthood ; 
but  in  my  eighteenth  year  the  wish  to  be  a  priest 
awoke  in  me.  And  the  hardest  of  all  the  separa 
tions  which  my  vocation  entailed  was  the  parting 
with  Barnabas.  He  went  to  Piacenza  and  became 
an  advocate.  He  married  and  died  within  a  year, 
leaving  a  young  widow  and  one  child — your  father. 
They  were  well  provided  for,  and  the  mother's  fam 
ily  took  charge  of  the  widow  and  of  the  child.  But 
the  widow,  too,  soon  died,  and  only  your  father 
was  left.  I  often  wished  to  see  him,  and  my  heart 
yearned  like  a  father's  over  him,  but  I  was  a  poor 
105 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

parish  priest,  far  away  from  him,  and  could  hear 
nothing  from  him.  Then  in  the  disorders  that 
followed  the  French  Revolution  one  lost  sight  of 
all  that  one  had  ever  known  and  loved.  I  caused 
diligent  inquiry  to  be  made — I  was  a  bishop  then, 
and  could  have  helped  Barnabas'  son — but  I  could 
not  find  a  trace  of  him.  He,  like  Barnabas,  had 
married  and  died  young,  leaving  an  only  child — 
yourself — and,  I  knew  it  not !  The  great  whirl 
pool  of  the  Revolution  seemed  to  swallow  up  every 
thing.  But  on  the  night  of  my  arrival  in  Paris, 
as  we  passed  slowly  along  that  narrow  street,  and 
I  saw  your  face  peering  into  my  carriage,  it  was 
as  if  my  Barnabas  had  come  back  to  me.  You 
are  more  like  him  than  I  believed  any  child  could 
be  like  its  father.  So,  when  I  heard,  through  the 
agency  of  the  Emperor,  that  a  young  relative  of 
mine,  by  name  Chiaramonti,  was  in  Paris,  earning 
her  living,  I  felt  sure  it  was  the  young  girl  who 
looked  into  my  carriage  that  night." 

"But  I  am  not  earning  my  living  now,  Holy 
Father." 

"So  I  hear.     You  have  had  strange  good  for 
tune — good  fortune  in  having  done  honest  work  in 
your  poverty,   and   good   fortune  in  being  under 
106 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

the  charge  of  the  excellent  and  respectable  Madame 
Bourcct,  since  there  was  no  need  for  you  to  work." 

"But —  Here  Fifi  paused  and  struggled  for 
a  moment  with  herself,  then  burst  out :  "I  was 
happier,  far,  when  I  was  earning  my  living.  The 
theater  was  small,  and  ill  lighted,  and  my  wages 
were  barely  enough  to  live  upon,  and  I  often  was 
without  a  fire;  but  at  least  I  had  Cartouche  and 
Toto." 

"And  who  are  Cartouche  and  Toto?"  asked  the 
Holy  Father,  mildly. 

Then  Fifi  told  the  story  of  Cartouche;  how 
brave  he  was  at  the  bridge  of  Lodi ;  how  he  had 
befriended  her,  and  stood  between  her  and  harm; 
and,  strange  to  say,  the  Pope  appeared  not  the 
least  shocked  at  things  that  would  have  paralyzed 
Madame  Bourcet  and  Louis  Bourcet.  Fifi  told 
him  all  about  the  thirty  francs  she  had  saved  up 
for  the  cloak,  and  the  spending  it  in  buying  Toto, 
and  the  Holy  Father  laughed  outright.  He 
asked  many  questions  about  the  theater,  and  the 
life  of  the  people  there,  and  agreed  with  Fifi  when 
she  said  sagely: 

"Cartouche  says  there  is  not  much  more  of  vir 
tue  in  one  calling  than  another,  and  that  those 
107 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

people,  like  poor  actors  and  actresses,  who  live 
from  hand  to  mouth,  and  can't  be  very  particular, 
are  in  the  way  of  doing  more  kindnesses  for  each 
other  than  people  who  lead  more  regular  lives. 
Cartouche,  you  know,  Holy  Father,  is  a  plain, 
blunt  man." 

"Like  Mark  Antony,"  replied  the  Pope,  smiling. 
Fifi  had  never  heard  of  such  a  person  as  Mark 
Antony,  so  very  wisely  held  her  peace. 

"But  this  Cartouche  seems  to  be  an  honest  fel 
low,"  added  the  Pope. 

"Holy  Father,"  cried  Fifi,  earnestly,  "Cartouche 
is  as  honest  as  you  are!" 

"I  should  like  to  see  him,"  said  the  Holy  Father, 
smiling  at  Fifi. 

"If  I  could,  I  would  make  him  come  to  you — 
but  he  will  not  even  come  to  see  me,"  said  Fifi  sadly. 
"Before  he  took  me  to  Madame  Bourcet's  he  told 
me  I  must  leave  my  old  life  behind  me.  He  said, 
'It  will  be  hard,  Fifi,  but  it  must  be  done  resolutely.' 
I  said :  'At  least  if  I  see  no  one  else  of  those  peo 
ple,  whom  I  really  love,  now  that  I  am  separated 
from  them — except  Julie  Campionet' — I  shall  al 
ways  hate  Julie  Campionet — 'I  shall  see  you.' 
'No,'  said  Cartouche,  in  an  obstinate  voice  that  I 
108 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

knew  well, — Cartouche  is  as  obstinate  as  a  donkey 
when  he  wishes  to  be, — 'if  you  sec  me  you  will  have 
a  new  struggle  every  time  we  part.  Years  from 
now,  when  you  are  fixed  in  another  life,  when  you 
are  suitably  married,  it  will  do  you  no  harm  to  see 
me,  but  not  now,' — and  actually,  Holy  Father, 
that  mean,  cruel,  heartless  Cartouche  has  kept  his 
word,  and  has  not  been  near  me,  or  even  answered 
my  letters." 

"Cartouche  is  a  sensible  fellow,"  said  the  Holy 
Father,  under  his  breath. 

Luckily  Fifi  did  not  catch  the  words,  or  she 
would,  in  her  own  mind,  have  stigmatized  the  Holy 
Father  as  also  mean,  cruel  and  heartless,  just  like 
Cartouche. 

"Very  well,"  said  the  Pope  aloud,  "tell  me  about 
Julie  Campionet.  Why  do  you  hate  her?" 

"Oh,  Holy  Father,  Julie  Campionet  is  a  minx. 
She  married  the  manager  against  his  will,  and  has 
stolen  all  my  best  parts,  and  has  made  everybody 
at  the  theater  forget  there  ever  was  a  Mademoiselle 
Fifi.  You  can't  imagine  a  person  more  evil  than 
Julie  Campionet." 

"Wicked,  wicked  Julie  Campionet,"  said  the 
Holy  Father  softly;  and  Fifi  knew  he  was  laugh- 
109 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

ing  at  her.  Then  he  grew  serious  and  said :  "My 
child,  it  is  important — nay,  necessary — for  you  to 
be  properly  married.  You  are  too  young,  too 
friendless,  too  inexperienced,  to  be  safe  until  you 
have  the  protection  of  a  good  husband.  Madame 
Bourcet  has  brought  me  proofs  of  the  worth  and 
respectability  of  her  nephew,  Monsieur  Louis 
Bourcet,  and,  as  the  head  of  your  family,  I  urge 
you  to  marry  this  worthy  young  man." 

Fifi  sat  still,  the  dazed,  submissive  look  coming 
back  into  her  face.  Everything  seemed  to  compel 
her  to  marry  Louis  Bourcet.  As  the  Holy  Father 
had  said,  she  must  marry  some  one.  She  felt  a 
sense  of  despair,  which  involved  resignation  to  her 
fate.  The  Holy  Father  looked  at  her  sharply, 
but  said  gently : 

"Is  there  no  one  else?" 

"No  one,  Holy  Father,"  replied  Fifi. 

There  was  no  one  but  Cartouche ;  and  Cartouche 
would  neither  see  her  nor  write  to  her,  and  besides 
had  never  spoken  a  word  of  love  to  her  in  his  life. 
If  she  had  remained  at  the  theater  she  could  have 
made  Cartouche  marry  her;  but  now  that  was  im 
possible.  Fifi  was  finding  out  some  things  in  her 


110 


A  PARCEL  OF  OLD  SHOES 

new  life  which  robbed  her  of  one  of  her  chief 
weapons — ignorance  of  convention. 

"And  Monsieur  Bourcet  is  worthy?"  she  h^ard 
the  Holy  Father  saying,  and  she  replied  mechan 
ically  : 

"Quite  worthy." 

"And  you  do  not  dislike  him?" 

"No,"  said  Fifi,  after  a  moment's  pause.  There 
was  not  enough  in  Louis  Bourcet  to  dislike. 

Fifi  rose.  She  could  not  bear  any  more  on  this 
subject.  The  Holy  Father,  smiling  at  Fifi's  tak 
ing  the  initiative  in  closing  the  interview,  said  to 
her: 

"Then  you  agree  to  marry  Louis  Bourcet?" 

"I  agree  to  marry  Louis  Bourcet,"  replied  Fifi, 
in  a  voice  that  sounded  strange  in  her  own  ears. 
She  did  not  know  what  else  to  say.  Two  months 
ago  she  would  have  replied  briskly,  "No,  indeed ;  I 
shall  marry  Cartouche,  and  nobody  but  Car 
touche."  Now,  however,  she  seemed  to  be  under 
a  spell.  It  appeared  to  be  arranged  for  her  that 
she  should  marry  Louis  Bourcet,  and  Cartouche 
would  not  lift  a  finger  to  help  her.  And,  strangest 
of  all,  in  saying  she  would  marry  Louis  Bourcet  she 


111 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

did  not  really  know  whether  she  meant  it  or  not, 
It  was  all  an  uneasy  dream. 

The  Pope  raised  his  hand  to  bless  her.  Fifi,  look 
ing  at  him,  saw  that  the  stress  of  emotion  at  seeing 
her  was  great.  The  pallor  of  his  face  had  given 
place  to  a  dull  flush,  and  his  uplifted  hand  trem 
bled. 

"You  will  come  again,  my  child,  when  your  fu 
ture  is  settled?"  he  said. 

"Yes,  Holy  Father,"  replied  Fifi,  and  sank  on 
her  knees  to  receive  his  blessing. 

As  she  walked  toward  the  door,  the  Holy  Father 
called  to  her : 

"Remember  that  Julie  Campionet,  in  spite  of  her 
crimes  toward  you,  is  one  of  God's  children." 

Fifi  literally  ran  out  of  the  room.  It  seemed  to 
her  as  if  the  Holy  Father  were  taking  Julie  Cam- 
pionet's  part. 


112 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE    BLUE    SATIN    BED 

Two  weeks  after  the  visit  to  Fontaineblcau  came 
the  crisis — for  Fifi  was  as  surely  tending  toward  a 
crisis  as  water  flows  downward  and  sparks  fly  up 
ward.  Madame  Bourcet,  armed  with  the  Holy 
Father's  approval,  represented  to  Fifi  the  necessity 
for  her  marrying  Louis  Bourcet.  Fifi  listened  si 
lently.  Then,  Madame  Bourcet,  eagerly  taking 
silence  for  consent,  said  that  Louis  would  that  very 
evening  accept  formally  of  Fifi's  hand.  To  this 
also  Fifi  made  no  reply,  and  Madame  Bourcet 
left  the  room  fully  persuaded  that  Fifi  was  revel 
ing  in  rapture  at  the  thought  of  acquiring  an 
epitome  of  all  the  virtues  in  Louis  Bourcet. 

It  was  during  the  morning,  and  in  the  snuff- 
colored  drawing-room,  that  the  communication  was 
made.  Fifi  felt  a  great  wave  of  doubt  and  anxiety 
swelling  up  in  her  heart.  For  the  first  time 
she  was  brought  face  to  face  with  the  marriage 
problem,  and  it  frightened  her  by  its  immensity. 
113 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

If  only  Cartouche  were  there — some  one  to  whom 
she  could  pour  out  her  trembling,  agitated  heart ! 
But  Cartouche  was  not  there,  nor  would  he  come. 
And  suddenly,  for  the  first  time,  something  of  the 
fierceness  of  maidenhood  overwhelmed  Fifi — a  feel 
ing  that  Cartouche  should,  after  all,  seek  her — 
that,  if  he  loved  her,  as  she  knew  he  did  above 
everything  on  earth,  he  should  speak  and  not  shame 
her  by  his  silence. 

Then,  the  conviction  that  Cartouche  preferred 
her  good  to  his,  that  he  thought  she  would  be 
happier  married  to  another  and  a  different  man, 
and  held  himself  honestly  unworthy  to  marry  her, 
brought  a  flood  of  tenderness  to  her  heart.  She 
had  seen  Cartouche  turn  red  and  pale  when  she 
kissed  him,  and  avoid  her  innocent  familiarities, 
and  she  knew  well  enough  what  it  meant.  But  if 
he  would  not  come,  nor  speak,  nor  write, — and 
everybody,  even  the  Holy  Father,  was  urging  her 
to  marry  Louis  Bourcet ;  and  a  great,  strong  chain 
of  circumstances  was  dragging  her  toward  the 
same  end — oh,  what  a  day  of  emotions  it  was  to 
Fifi! 

She  knew  not  how  it  passed,  nor  what  she  said 
or  did,  nor  what  she  ate  and  drank;  she  only 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

waited,  as  if  for  the  footfall  of  fate,  for  the  hour 
when  Louis  Bourcet  would  arrive.  He  came  at 
eight,  punctual  to  the  minute.  Punctuality,  like 
every  other  virtue,  was  his.  Madame  Bourcet 
whispered  something  to  him,  and  Louis,  for  the 
first  time,  touched  Fifi's  hand  and  brushed  it  with 
his  lips,  Fifi  standing  like  a  statue.  The  crisis  was 
rapidly  becoming  acute. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  cribbage  board  was  brought 
out ;  Madame  Bourcet  dutifully  fell  asleep,  and 
Louis,  with  the  air  of  doing  the  most  important 
thing  in  the  world,  took  from  his  pocket  a  small 
picture  of  himself,  which  he  presented  to  Fifi  with 
a  formal  speech,  of  which  she  afterward  could  not 
recall  one  word.  Nor  could  she  remember  what  he 
talked  about  during  the  succeeding  half -hour  be 
fore  Madame  Bourcet  waked  up.  Then  Louis 
rose  to  go,  and  something  was  said  about  happi 
ness  and  economy  in  the  management  of  affairs; 
and  Louis  announced  that  owing  to  the  necessity 
of  procuring  certain  papers  from  Strasburg,  where 
his  little  property  lay,  the  marriage  contract  could 
not  be  signed  for  a  month  yet,  and  inquired  if  Fifi 
would  be  ready  to  marry  him  at  the  end  of  the 
month.  Fifi  instantly  replied  yes,  and  then  the 
115 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

crisis  was  over.  From  that  moment  nothing  on 
earth  would  have  induced  Fifi  to  marry  Louis  Bour- 
cet. 

She  did  not,  of  course,  put  this  in  words,  but 
sent  poor  Louis  off  with  her  promise  to  marry  him 
in  a  month.  Nevertheless,  by  one  of  those  pro 
cesses  of  logic  which  Fifi  could  not  formulate  to 
save  her  life,  but  which  she  could  act  up  to  in  the 
teeth  of  fire  and  sword,  the  promise  to  marry  Louis 
Bourcet  settled  for  all  time  that  she  would  not 
marry  him. 

Up  to  that  moment  all  had  been  vague,  agitat 
ing,  mysterious  and  compelling.  She  felt  herself 
driven,  if  not  to  marry  Louis  Bourcet,  to  act  as 
if  she  meant  to  marry  him.  But  once  she  had 
promised,  once  she  had  something  tangible  to  go 
upon,  her  spirit  burst  its  chains,  and  she  was  once 
more  free.  She  had  no  more  notion  of  marrying 
Louis  Bourcet  then  than  she  had  of  trying  to 
walk  on  her  head.  And  she  felt  such  a  wild,  tem 
pestuous  joy — the  first  flush  of  happiness  she  had 
known  since  the  wretched  lottery  ticket  had  drawn 
the  prize.  She  was  so  happy  that  she  was  glad 
to  escape  to  her  own  room.  She  carried  in  her 
hand  the  picture  of  Louis  Bourcet,  and  did  not 
116 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

know  she  held  it  until  she  put  it  down  on  her  man 
telpiece  and  saw  in  the  mirror  above  it  her  own 
smiling,  glowing  face. 

"No,  Louis,"  she  said  to  the  picture,  shaking  her 
head  solemnly,  "it  is  not  to  be.  I  have  been  a  fool 
heretofore  in  not  saying  outright  that  I  wouldn't 
marry  you  to  save  your  life.  But  now  my  mind  is 
made  up.  Nobody  can  make  me  marry  you,  and 
I  would  not  do  it  if  Cartouche,  the  Holy  Father 
and  the  Emperor  all  commanded  me  to  marry  you !" 

Then  an  impish  thought  came  into  Fifi's  head, 
for  Fifi  was  in  some  respects  a  cruel  young  person. 
She  would  make  Louis  himself  refuse  to  marry  her 
and  contrive  so  that  all  the  blame  would  be  visited 
upon  the  innocent  Louis,  while  she,  the  wicked  Fifi, 
would  go  free.  In  a  flash  it  was  revealed  to  her; 
it  was  to  get  rid  of  her  hundred  thousand  francs. 
Then  Louis  would  not  marry  her — and  oh,  rap 
ture  !  Cartouche  would. 

"He  can't  refuse,"  thought  Fifi  in  an  ecstasy. 
"When  I  have  been  jilted  and  cruelly  used,  and 
have  no  money,  then  I  can  go  back  to  the  stage, 
and  everybody  will  know  me  as  Mademoiselle 
Chiaramonti,  granddaughter  of  the  Pope's  cousin, 
who  woo  the  great  prize  in  the  lottery ;  everybody 
117 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

will  flock  to  see  me,  as  they  did  the  last  two  weeks 
I  played;  and  I  shall  have  forty  francs  the  week, 
and  Cartouche,  and  love  and  work  and  peace  and 
Toto,  and  no  Louis  Bourcet !  And  how  angry  Julie 
Campionet  will  be!" 

It  was  so  dcliciously  easy  to  get  at  her  money— 
a  rip  and  a  stitch  afterward — ten  thousand  francs 
squandered  before  Louis  Bourcet's  eyes.  Fifi 
thought  the  loss  of  the  first  ten  thousand  would  rid 
her  of  her  fiance,  but  she  knew  she  could  never  get 
Cartouche  as  long  as  she  had  even  ten  thousand 
francs  left,  and  she  realized  fully  that  it  was  Car 
touche  that  she  wranted  most  of  anything  in  the 
world.  The  Holy  Father  would  probably  scold 
her  a  little,  but  Fifi  felt  sure,  if  she  could  only  tell 
the  Holy  Father  just  how  she  felt  and  how  good 
Cartouche  was,  and  also  how  odiously  good  Louis 
Bourcet  was,  he  would  forgive  her. 

The  more  Fifi  thought  of  this  scheme  of  getting 
rid  of  Louis  Bourcet  and  entrapping  Cartouche  the 
more  rapturous  she  grew.  She  had  two  ways  of 
expressing  joy  and  thankfulness — praying  and 
dancing.  She  plumped  down  on  her  knees,  and 
for  about  twenty  seconds  thanked  God  earnestly 
for  having  shown  her  the  way  to  get  rid  of  Louis 
118 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

Bourcct — for  Fifi's  prayers,  like  herself,  were  very 
primitive  and  childlike.  Then,  jumping  up,  she 
danced  for  twenty  minutes,  kicking  as  high  as  she 
could,  until  she  finally  kicked  the  picture  of  Louis 
Bourcet  off  the  mantelpiece  to  the  floor,  on  which 
it  fell  with  a  sharp  crash. 

Madame  Bourcct,  in  the  next  room,  stirred  at 
once.  Fifi  again  plumped  down  on  her  knees,  and 
when  Madame  Bourcet  opened  the  door  Fifi  was 
deeply  engaged  in  saying  her  prayers.  Madame 
Bourcct  shut  the  door  softly — the  noise  could  not 
have  been  in  Fifi's  room. 

As  soon  as  Madame  Bourcet  was  again  snoozing, 
Fifi,  moving  softly  about,  lighted  her  candle  and 
wrote  a  letter  to  Cartouche. 

"Cartouche,  my  mind  is  made  up.  This  even 
ing  I  promised  Louis  Bourcet,  in  Madame  Bour- 
cet's  presence,  to  marry  him.  When  I  had  done  it 
I  felt  as  if  a  load  were  lifted  off  my  mind,  for  as 
soon  as  the  words  were  out  of  my  mouth  I  deter 
mined  that  nothing  on  earth  should  induce  me  to 
keep  my  promise.  I  feel  that  I  am  right,  Car 
touche,  and  I  have  not  felt  so  pious  for  a  long 
time.  I  don't  know  how  it  will  be  managed.  I 
119 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

am  only  certain  of  one  thing,  and  that  is  that  Louis 
Bourcct  will  never  become  Monsieur  Fifi  Chiara- 
monti — for  that  is  just  what  it  would  amount  to, 
he  is  so  good  and  so  colorless.  I  am  not  in  the 
least  sorry  for  Louis.  I  am  only  sorry  for  myself 
that  I  have  been  bothered  with  him  so  long,  and 
besides,  I  wish  to  marry  some  one  else.  Fifi." 

Fifi  crept  into  bed  after  writing  this  letter.  For 
the  first  time  she  found  the  hard  lump  in  the  mid 
dle  of  her  mattress  uncomfortable. 

"Never  mind,"  thought  Fifi  to  herself,  "I  shall 
soon  be  rid  of  it,  and  sleep  in  peace,  as  I  haven't 
done  since  I  had  it." 

Fifi's  dreams  were  happy  that  night,  and  when 
she  waked  in  the  morning  she  felt  a  kind  of 
dewy  freshness  in  her  heart,  like  the  awakening  of 
spring.  It  was  springtime  already,  and  as  Fifi 
lay  cosily  in  her  little  white  bed  she  contrived  joy 
ous  schemes  for  her  own  benefit,  which  some  people 
might  have  called  plotting  mischief.  She  rea 
soned  with  herself  thus: 

"Fifi,  you  have  been  miserable  ever  since  you  got 
the  odious,  hateful  hundred  thousand  francs,  and 
it  was  nasty  of  Cartouche  to  give  you  the  lottery 
120 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

ticket.  Fifi,  you  are  not  very  old,  but  you  are 
of  the  sort  which  does  not  change,  and  you  will  be 
Fifi  as  long  as  you  live.  You  can  not  be  happy 
away  from  Cartouche  and  the  theater  and  Toto — 
unfeeling  wretch  that  you  are,  to  let  Toto  be  torn 
from  you !  So  the  only  thing  to  do  is  to  return  to 
love  and  work.  If  you  spend  all  your  money 
Louis  Bourcet  would  not  marry  you  to  save  your 
life,  and  then  you  can  go  back  to  the  theater  and 
make  Cartouche  marry  you.  Oh,  how  simple  it  is ! 
Stupid,  stupid  Fifi,  that  you  did  not  think  of  this 
before !"  And,  throbbing  with  happiness  at  the 
emancipation  before  her,  Fifi  rose  and  dressed  her 
self.  She  was  distracted  by  the  riotous  singing 
of  the  robins  in  the  one  solitary  tree  in  the  court 
yard.  Heretofore  the  little  birds  had  been  mute 
and  half  frozen,  but  this  morning,  in  the  warm 
spring  sun,  they  sang  in  ecstasy. 

Fifi  not  only  felt  different,  but  she  actually 
looked  so;  and  the  blitheness  which  shone  in  her 
eyes  when  she  went  to  ask  Madame  Bourcet  if  she 
might  have  Angeline,  the  sour  maid-of-all-work, 
to  go  with  her  to  the  shops  that  morning  might 
have  awakened  suspicion  in  most  minds.  But  not 
in  Madame  Bourcet's.  Fifi  slyly  let  drop  some- 
121 


THE    FORTUNES    OF   FIFI 

thing  about  her  trousseau,  and  Madame  Bourcet 
hastened  to  say  that  she  might  take  Angeline. 

In  a  little  while  the  two  were  ready  to  start. 
In  her  hand  Fifi  carried  a  little  purse,  containing 
twenty-one  francs,  and  in  her  reticule  she  carried 
her  handkerchief,  her  smelling-salts  and  ten  crisp 
thousand-franc  notes. 

"How  shall  I  ever  spend  it  all!"  she  thought, 
with  a  little  dismay ;  and  then,  having  some  curious 
odds  and  ends  of  sense  in  her  pretty  head,  she  con 
cluded  :  "Oh,  it  is  easy  enough.  I  have  often  heard 
Cartouche  say  that  nobody  ever  yet  tried  to  squan 
der  money  who  did  not  find  a  dozen  helpers  on 
every  hand." 

Paris  is  beautiful  on  a  spring  morning,  with  the 
sun  shining  on  the  splashing  fountains  and  the 
steel  blue  river,  and  the  streets  full  of  cheerful-look 
ing  people.  It  was  the  first  mild,  soft  day  of  March, 
and  everybody  was  trying  to  make  believe  it  was 
May.  The  restaurants  had  placed  their  chairs  and 
tables  out  of  doors,  and  made  a  brave  showing  of 
greenery  with  watercress  and  a  few  little  radishes. 
Itinerant  musicians  were  grinding  away  indus 
triously,  and  some  humorous  cab-drivers  had  paid 
five  centimes  for  a  sprig  of  green  to  stick  behind 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

the  cars  of  their  patient  horses.  All  Paris  was 
out  of  doors,  helping  the  birds  and  leaves  to  make 
the  spring. 

Fifi  strolled  along  and  found  the  streets  almost 
as  pleasant  as  the  street  of  the  Black  Cat,  except 
that  she  knew  everybody  in  the  street  of  the  Black 
Cat  and  knew  no  one  at  all  of  all  this  merry 
throng.  Her  first  incursion  was  into  a  chocolate 
shop,  where  she  treated  both  herself  and  Angeline 
in  a  princely  manner,  as  became  a  lady  who  had 
ten  notes  of  a  thousand  francs  to  dispose  of  in  a 
morning's  shopping. 

While  they  were  sipping  their  chocolate  Fifi  was 
wondering  how  she  could  manage  to  leave  Angeline 
in  the  lurch  and  slip  off  by  herself — for  Angeline 
might  possibly  make  trouble  for  her  when  she 
came  to  dispensing  her  wealth  as  she  privately 
planned.  But  in  this,  as  in  all  things  else  that  day, 
fortune  favored  Fifi.  Afar  off  was  heard  the  rat 
aplan  of  a  marching  regiment,  with  the  merry 
laughter  and  shuffle  of  feet  of  an  accompanying 
crowd. 

"What  so  easy  as  to  get  carried  along  with  that 
crowd  ?"  thought  Fifi,  as  she  ran  to  the  door,  where 
the  proprietor  and  all  the  clerks  as  well  as  the  cus- 
123 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

tomers  were  flying.  It  was  the  day  of  a  grand  re 
view  at  Longchamps,  and  the  sight  of  the  march 
ing  regiment,  with  the  band  ringing  out  in  rhyth 
mic  beauty,  seemed  the  finest  thing  in  the  world. 

Fifi  found  herself,  with  very  little  effort  on  her 
part,  pushed  out  on  the  sidewalk,  and  the  next 
thing  she  was  being  swept  along  with  the  eager 
crowd  following  the  soldiers.  At  the  corner  of  a 
large  street  the  regiment  turned  off  toward  the 
Champs  Elysees,  the  crowd  parted,  and  Fifi  saw 
her  way  back  clear  to  the  chocolate  shop.  But 
staring  her  in  the  face  was  a  magnificent  furniture 
and  bric-a-brac  shop,  while  next  it  was  a  superb 
magasin  des  modes  with  a  great  window  full  of 
gowns,  wraps  and  hats. 

Here  was  the  place  for  Fifi  to  get  rid  of  her  ten 
thousand  francs.  It  seemed  to  Fifi  as  if  a  benig 
nant  Providence  had  rewarded  her  virtuous  design 
by  placing  her  just  where  she  was;  so  she  walked 
boldly  into  the  magasin  des  modes. 

The  manager  of  the  place,  a  handsome,  showily- 
dressed  and  bejewelcd  woman,  looked  suspiciously 
at  a  young  and  pretty  girl,  arriving  without  maid 
or  companion  of  any  sort — but  Fifi,  bringing  into 
play  some  of  the  arts  she  had  learned  at  the  Im- 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

pcrial  Theater,  sank,  apparently  breathless,  into  a 
seat ;  told  of  kcr  being  swept  away  from  her  com 
panion,  and  offered  to  pay  for  a  messenger  to  hunt 
up  Angelinc.  Meanwhile  she  artlessly  let  out  that 
she  was  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti,  in  search  of 
articles  for  her  trousseau. 

Her  story  was  well  known;  everybody  in  Paris 
had  heard  of  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti,  of  the 
Imperial  Theater,  who  had  drawn  the  first  prize  in 
the  lottery,  and  instantly  all  was  curiosity  to  see 
her  and  alertness  to  attend  her — except  as  to 
sending  for  Angelina.  There  was  an  unaccount 
able  slowness  about  that,  except  on  the  theory 
that  it  would  be  well  to  show  Fifi  some  of  the  crea 
tions  of  the  establishment  before  the  arrival  of  the 
elder  person,  who  might  throw  cold  water  on  the 
prospective  purchases.  And  then  began  the  com 
edy,  so  often  enacted  in  the  world,  of  the  cunning 
hypocrite  being  unconsciously  the  dupe  of  the  sup 
posed  victim. 

Fifi  was  careful  to  hint  that  her  marriage  was 
being  arranged ;  and  if  anything  could  have  added 
to  Fifi's  joy  and  satisfaction  it  was  the  determina 
tion  on  the  part  of  the  shop  people  to  embody  in 
her  trousseau  all  the  outlandish  things  they  pos- 
125 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FJFI 

scsscd.  This  suited  Fifi  exactly.  Louis  Bourcet 
was  as  finically  particular  about  colors  as  he  was 
about  behavior,  and  both  he  and  Madame  Bourcet 
were  privately  determined  that  Fifi  should  go 
through  life  in  brown  gowns  with  dark  green  spots, 
like  the  one  which  had  so  excited  her  disgust  in  the 
first  instance.  Knowing  this,  Fifi  concluded  to 
administer  a  series  of  shocks  in  every  one  of  her 
purchases,  and  went  about  to  do  this  with  a  vim 
and  thoroughness  characteristic  of  her. 

The  first  gown  they  showed  her  nearly  made  her 
scream  with  delight.  It  was  almost  enough  to 
make  Louis  Bourcet  break  their  engagement  at 
sight.  It  was  a  costume  of  a  staring  yellow  bro 
cade,  with  large  purple  flowers  on  it,  and  was  ob 
viously  intended  for  a  woman  nine  feet  high  and 
three  feet  broad — and  Fifi  was  but  a  slender  twig 
of  a  girl.  One  huge  flower  covered  her  back,  and 
another  her  chest,  while  three  or  four  went  around 
the  vast  skirt  which  trailed  a  yard  behind.  The 
manager  put  it  on  Fifi,  while  her  assistants  and  fel 
low  conspirators  joined  with  her  in  declaring  that 
the  gown  was  ravishing  on  Fifi,  which  it  was  in  a 
way. 

Fifi  paraded  solemnly  up  and  down  before  the 
126 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

large  swinging  mirror,  surveying  herself.  She 
was  a  quaint  object  in  the  great  yellow  and  purple 
gown,  and  she  knew  it.  Her  face  broke  into  a 
shower  of  smiles  and  dimples. 

"It  will  answer  my  purpose  exactly,"  she  cried. 
This  was  true,  as  it  was  calculated  to  give  Madame 
Bourcet,  and  especially  Louis  Bourcet,  nervous 
convulsions. 

"Show  me  a  hat  to  go  with  it — the  largest  hat 
you  have." 

The  hat  was  produced — a  nightmare,  equal  to 
the  yellow  and  purple  brocade.  Flowers,  beads, 
ribbons  and  feathers  weighed  it  down,  but  Fifi 
demanded  more  of  everything  to  be  put  on  it,  par 
ticularly  feathers.  When  she  put  the  hat  on,  with 
the  gown,  one  of  the  young  women  in  the  estab 
lishment  gave  a  half  shriek  of  something  between 
a  laugh  and  a  scream.  A  look  from  the  manager 
sent  the  culprit  like  a  shot  into  the  back  part  of 
the  shop. 

Fifi,  gravely  examining  herself  in  the  glass,  de 
clared  she  was  charmed  with  her  costume  and  would 
wear  it  on  the  day  of  her  civil  marriage.  Then 
she  demanded  a  cloak. 

"One  that  would  look  well  on  a  dowager  em- 
127 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

press,"  she  said  with  a  grand  air,  knowing  she  had 
ten  thousand  francs  in  her  pocket* 

One  was  produced  which  might  have  looked  well 
on  the  dowager  empress  of  China,  but  scarcely  on 
an  occidental.  It  was  a  stupendous  stripe  of  red  and 
green  satin,  which  might  have  served  for  the  grid 
iron  on  which  Saint  Lawrence  was  broiled  alive.  It 
had  large  sleeves,  which  Fifi  insisted  must  be 
trimmed  with  heavy  lace  and  deep  fur.  In  a 
twinkling  this  was  fastened  on,  and  Fifi  approved. 

"And  now  a  fan,"  she  said. 

Dozens  of  fans  were  produced,  but  none  of  them 
preposterous  enough  to  suit  Fifi's  purpose  and  her 
costume.  At  last  she  compromised  on  a  large  pink 
one  with  a  couple  of  birds  of  paradise  on  it. 

Oh,  what  a  picture  was  Fifi,  parading  up  and 
down  before  the  mirror,  and  saying  to  herself : 

"I  think  this  will  finish  him." 

The  amount  for  the  costume,  cloak,  hat  and  fan 
was  nearly  two  thousand  francs.  Fifi  regretted  it 
was  not  more. 

"And  now,"  she  said,  "some  negligees,  with  rich 
effects ;  you  understand." 

Fifi's  taste  being  pretty  well  understood  in  the 
establishment  by  this  time,  some  negligees  were 
128 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

produced,  in  which  Fifi  arrayed  herself  and  looked 
like  a  parroquet.  Then  came  evening  gowns. 
There  was  one  in  particular  which  Fifi  thought 
might  he  the  death  of  the  Bourcets.  It  was  a 
short,  scant,  diaphanous  Greek  costume,  which 
was  so  very  Greek  that  it  could  only  have  been 
worn  with  propriety  in  the  days  of  the  nymphs, 
the  fauns  and  the  dryads. 

"This,  without  a  petticoat,  I  am  sure,  will  rid 
me  of  Louis  Bourcet,"  thought  Fifi,  "but  I  must 
never  let  Cartouche  sec  it,  or  he  will  kill  me." 

Fifi,  being  fatigued  with  her  exertions — for  her 
purchases  were  calculated  to  fatigue  the  eye  as 
well  as  the  mind,  ordered  the  articles  selected  to  be 
sent  that  day  to  Madame  Bourcct's. 

"And  the  bill,  Mademoiselle?"  asked  the  man 
ager  in  a  dulcet  voice. 

"Make  it  out,"  replied  Fifi  debonairly,  "and  I 
will  pay  it  now."'' 

There  was  a  pause  for  the  manager  and  the 
clerks  to  recover  their  breath,  while  Fifi  sat  quite 
serene.  It  did  not  take  a  minute  for  the  bill  to  be 
made  out,  however, — four  thousand,  nine  hundred 
and  forty-four  francs,  twenty-five  centimes.  Fifi 
was  cruelly  disappointed ;  she  had  reckoned  on  get- 
129 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

ting  rid  of  more  of  her  money.  But  still  this  was 
a  beginning,  so  she  handed  over  five  notes  of  a 
thousand  francs  each,  and  gravely  counted  her 
change:  fifty-five  francs,  seventy -five  centimes. 

Then,  and  then  only,  was  a  message  sent  after 
Angeline  to  the  chocolate  shop. 

But  Angeline  could  not  be  found.  She  had  seen 
Fifi  swept  away,  as  she  thought,  by  the  crowd,  and 
had  rushed  out  to  join  her;  but  Fifi  had  no  mind 
to  be  caught,  and  Angeline  found  herself  flopping 
about  wildly,  shrieking  at  the  passers-by,  without 
any  stops  whatever  between  her  words : 

"Have  you  seen  Mademoiselle  Fifi  Mademoiselle 
Chiaramonti  I  lost  her  in  the  chocolate  shop  oh 
what  will  Madame  Bourcet  say  good  people  I  am 
sure  she  is  lost  for  good  and  a  hundred  thousand 
francs  in  bank  and  what  is  to  be  become  of  Mon 
sieur  Louis  where  can  Mademoiselle  Fifi  be?"  and 
much  more  of  the  same  sort. 

Fifi,  however,  was  half  a  mile  away,  and  having 
exhausted  the  resources  of  the  shop  for  gowns, 
tripped  gaily  into  the  furniture  shop  next  door. 

Here,  thought  Fifi  cheerfully,  she  would  be  able 
to  make  substantial  progress  toward  getting  rid 
of  Louis  Bourcet  and  marrying  Cartouche.  She 
130 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

saw  many  splendid  gilt  tables,  chairs,  divans,  cabi 
nets  and  the  like,  which  she,  with  her  limited  ex 
perience  in  furniture  buying  in  the  street  of  the 
Black  Cat,  thought  must  be  very  dear :  some  of  the 
most  splendid  pieces  must  cost  as  much  as  four 
hundred  francs,  thought  innocent  Fifi. 

But  it  was  not  enough  for  a  thing  to  be  expen 
sive;  it  must  be  outrageous  in  taste  and  design  to 
be  available  for  her  purpose,  and  with  this  in  view 
she  roved  around  the  establishment,  attended  by  a 
clerk  of  lofty  manners  and  a  patronizing  air.  At 
last,  however,  she  pounced  upon  an  object  worthy 
to  be  classed  with  the  yellow  and  purple  brocade. 
This  was  a  huge,  blue  satin  bed,  with  elaborate  gilt 
posts,  and  cornice,  vast  curtains  of  lace  as  well  as 
satin,  cords,  tassels,  and  every  other  species  of  or 
nament  which  could  be  fastened  to  a  bed. 

Fifi,  who  had  never  seen  anything  like  it  before, 
gasped  in  her  amazement  and  delight,  the  clerk 
meanwhile  surveying  her  with  an  air  of  conde 
scending  amusement. 

Here  was  the  thing  to  drive  Louis  Bourcet  to 
madness,  thought  Fifi,  surveying  the  bed  rap 
turously.  If  she  could  once  get  it  into  the  house, 
it  would  be  difficult  to  get  it  out,  it  was  so  large 
131 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

and  so  complex,  and  so  very  formidable.  Fifi's 
resolution  was  taken  in  an  instant.  She  meant  to 
have  it  if  it  cost  a  thousand  francs.  She  rather  re 
sented  the  air  of  patronage  with  which  the  clerk  ex 
plained  the  beauties  of  the  bed  to  her.  He  seemed 
to  be  saying  all  the  time : 

"This  is  but  time  wasted.  You  can  never  afford 
anything  so  expensive  as  this." 

Fifi,  calling  up  her  talents  as  an  actress,  which 
were  not  inconsiderable,  accentuated  her  innocent 
and  open-mouthed  wonder  at  the  size  and  splendor 
of  the  bed.  Then,  intending  to  make  a  grand 
stroke  which  would  paralyze  the  clerk,  she  said 
coolly : 

"I  will  give  you  fifteen  hundred  francs  for  this 
bed." 

The  clerk's  nose  went  into  the  air. 

"I  have  the  honor  to  inform  Mademoiselle  that 
this  bed  was  made  with  a  view  to  purchase  by  the 
Empress,  but  the  cost  was  so  great  that  the  Em 
peror  objected  and  would  not  allow  the  Empress 
to  buy  it.  The  price  is  five  thousand  francs ;  no 
more  and  no  less." 

Fifi  was  secretly  staggered  by  tliis,  but  she 
now  regarded  the  clerk  as  an  enemy  to  be  van- 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

quishcd  at  any  price — and  vengeance  seemed  to  her 
cheap  at  five  thousand  francs.  Fifi  had  a  revenge 
ful  nature,  which  did  not  stop  at  trifles.  So,  after 
a  moment's  pause  to  recover  herself,  she  said,  still 
coolly : 

"Well,  then,  the  price  is  exorbitant,  but  I  will 
take  the  bed." 

The  clerk,  instead  of  succumbing  to  this,  re 
tained  his  composure  in  the  most  exasperating  man 
ner.  He  only  asked,  with  a  shade  of  increduilty  in 
his  voice : 

"If  Mademoiselle  will  kindly  give  us  the  money 
in  gold  or  notes  it  can  be  arranged  at  once." 

Fifi,  in  the  most  debonair  manner  in  the  world, 
opened  her  reticule  and  produced  five  notes  for  a 
thousand  francs  each. 

The  clerk,  unlike  Fifi,  knew  nothing  of  the 
art  of  acting,  and  looked,  as  he  was,  perfectly 
astounded.  His  limp  hand  fell  to  his  side,  his  jaw 
dropped  open  and  he  backed  away  from  Fifi  as  if 
he  thought  she  might  explode.  Fifi,  as  calm  as  a 
May  zephyr,  continued: 

"I  desire  that  this  bed  be  sent  between  ten  and 
two  to-morrow  to  the  address  I  shall  give.     I  shall 
only  take  it  on  that  condition." 
133 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

There  was  method  in  this.  Fifi  had  suddenly 
remembered  that  the  next  morning  was  Thursday. 
On  that  day,  every  week,  Madame  Bourcet  indulged 
in  the  wild  orgy  of  attending  a  lecture  on  mathe 
matics  delivered  by  her  brother,  the  professor  of 
mathematics,  before  a  lyceum  frequented  by  several 
elderly  and  mathematical  ladies,  like  Madame 
Bourcet.  When  she  was  out  of  the  house  was 
clearly  the  time  to  get  the  preposterous  bed  in; 
and  Fifi  made  her  arrangements  accordingly. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  impressive  than 
Fifi's  studied  calmness  and  coolness  while  giving 
directions  about  the  bed.  The  clerk  went  after 
the  proprietor,  who  could  not  conceal  his  surprise 
at  a  young  lady  like  Fifi  going  about  unattended, 
and  with  five  thousand  francs  in  her  pocket.  Fifi 
finally  condescended  to  explain  that  she  was  Made 
moiselle  Chiaramonti.  That  cleared  up  every 
thing.  The  proprietor,  of  course,  had  heard  her 
story,  and  rashly  and  mistakenly  assumed  that  Fifi 
was  a  little  fool,  but  at  all  events,  he  had  made  a 
good  bargain  with  her,  and  he  bowed  her  out  of  the 
establishment  as  if  she  had  been  a  princess  as  well 
as  a  fool. 

Once  outside  in  the  clear  sunshine,  Fifi  was  tri- 
134s 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

umphant.  She  felt  that  a  long  step  had  been 
taken  toward  getting  rid  of  Louis  Bourcet.  And, 
after  all,  it  was  just  as  easy  to  spend  five  thousand 
francs  as  five,  if  one  has  the  money.  She  had  spent 
infinitely  more  time  and  trouble  over  her  thirty- 
franc  cloak  than  over  all  her  extraordinary  pur 
chases  of  the  last  hour. 

"The  gowns  are  frightful  enough,  as  well  as  the 
bills,"  she  thought  to  herself,  walking  away  from 
the  shop,  "and  the  bed  is  really  a  crushing  revela 
tion — but  it  is  not  enough — it  is  not  enough." 

Then  an  inspiration  came  to  her  which  brought 
her  to  a  standstill. 

"I  must  go  to  a  monkey  shop  and  buy  a  monkey 
— but — but  I  am  afraid  of  monkeys.  However — 
— here  Fifi  felt  an  expansion  of  the  soul — "when 
one  loves,  as  I  love  Cartouche,  one  must  be  prepared 
for  sacrifices.  So  I  shall  sacrifice  myself.  I  shall 
buy  a  monkey." 

But  it  is  easier  to  say  one  will  buy  a  monkey 
than  to  buy  one.  Fifi  walked  on,  pondering  how  to 
make  this  sublime  sacrifice  to  her  affections. 

The  sense  of  freedom,  the  exhilaration   of  the 
spring  day,  made  themselves  felt  in  her  blood.    And 
then,  for  the  first  time,  she  also  felt  the  berserker 
135 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

madness  for  shopping  which  is  latent  in  the  femi 
nine  nature.  The  fact  that  reason  and  common 
sense  were  to  be  outraged  as  far  as  possible  rather 
added  zest  to  the  enjoyment. 

"This  is  the  real  way  to  go  shopping,"  thought 
Fifi,  with  delight.  "Spending  for  the  pleasure  of 
spending — buying  monkeys  and  everything  else 
one  fancies.  It  can  only  be  done  once  in  a  blue 
moon;  even  the  Empress  can  not  do  it  whenever 
she  likes." 

She  walked  on,  drinking  in  with  delight  the  life 
and  sunshine  around  her.  The  more  she  reflected 
upon  the  monkey  idea  the  finer  it  appeared  to  her. 
True,  she  was  mortally  afraid  of  a  monkey,  but 
then  she  was  convinced  that  Louis  Bourcet  was  more 
afraid  of  monkeys  than  she  was. 

"And  it  is  for  my  Cartouche — and  would  Car 
touche  hesitate  at  making  such  a  sacrifice  for  me? 
No!  A  thousand  times  no!  And  I  can  not  do 
less  than  all  for  Cartouche,  whom  I  love.  It  is  my 
duty  to  use  every  means,  even  a  monkey,  to  get  rid 
of  Louis  Bourcet." 

But  where  should  she  find  a  place  to  buy  a 
monkey?  That  she  could  not  think  of,  but  her 


136 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

fertile  mind  suggested  an  expedient  even  better 
than  the  mere  purchase  of  a  single  monkey.  She 
stopped  at  one  of  those  movable  booths,  wherein 
sat  a  man  who  did  writing  for  those  unable  to  write 
as  well  as  they  wished,  or  unable  to  write  at  all. 
The  booth  was  plastered  over  with  advertisements 
of  articles  for  sale,  but  naturally  no  monkeys  were 
offered. 

The  man  in  the  booth,  a  bright-eyed  cripple, 
looked  up  when  Fifi  tapped  on  the  glass  of  the  little 
open  window. 

"Monsieur,"  said  Fifi,  sweetly,  "if  you  please,  I 
am  very  anxious  for  a  monkey — a  dear  little 
monkey,  for  a  pet ;  but  I  do  not  know  where  to 
find  one,  and  my  family  will  not  assist  me  in  finding 
one.  If  I  should  pay  you,  say  five  francs,  would 
you  write  an  advertisement  for  a  monkey,  and  let 
it  be  pasted  with  the  other  advertisements  on  your 
booth?" 

"Ten  francs,"  responded  the  man. 

Fifi  laid  the  ten  francs  down. 

"Now,  write  in  very  large  letters:  'Wanted — 
A  monkey,  for  a  lady's  pet;  must  be  well  trained, 
and  not  malicious.  Apply  at  No.  14  Rue  de 


137 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

1'Echelle.  Any  person  bringing  a  monkey  will  re 
ceive  a  franc  for  his  trouble,  if  the  monkey  is  not 
purchased.' ' 

"Do  you  wish  any  snakes  or  parrots,  Made 
moiselle?"  asked  the  man,  pocketing  his  ten  francs. 

"No,  thank  you;  the  monkey,  I  think,  will  an 
swer  all  my  purposes,"  responded  Fifi  with  dignity. 

It  was  then  past  noon,  and  Fifi,  having  spent 
a  most  enjoyable  morning,  called  a  fiacre  and  di 
rected  the  cabman  to  take  her  home. 

Just  as  she  turned  into  the  Rue  de  1'Echelle  she 
heard  some  one  calling  after  her: 

"Mademoiselle!     Mademoiselle  Fifi!" 

It  was  Angeline,  very  red  in  the  face,  and  run 
ning  after  the  fiacre.  Fifi  had  it  stopped  and  An 
geline  clambered  in.  Before  she  had  a  chance  to 
begin  the  fault-finding  which  is  the  privilege  of  an 
old  servant  Fifi  cut  the  ground  from  under  her 
feet. 

"Why  did  you  desert  me  as  you  did,  Angeline?" 
cried  Fifi  indignantly.  "You  saw  me  swept  off  my 
feet,  and  carried  along  with  the  crowd,  and  in 
stead  of  following  me — 

"I  did  not  see  you,  Mademoiselle — it  was  you — 


138 


THE  BLUE  SATIN  BED 

"You  left  me  to  my  fate !  What  might  not  have 
happened  to  me  alone  in  the  streets  of  Paris !" 

"Mademoiselle  has  perhaps  been  alone  in  the 
streets  of  Paris  before — 

"Silence,  Angeline!  How  dare  you  say  that  I 
have  been  alone  in  the  streets  of  Paris  before ! 
Your  language,  as  well  as  your  conduct,  is  in 
tolerable  !" 

"I  beg  Mademoiselle  to  remember — " 

"I  remember  nothing  but  that,  being  sent  out 
in  your  charge,  you  basely  deserted  me,  and  you 
shall  answer  for  it ;  I  beg  of  you  to  remember  that." 

Angeline  was  reduced  by  this  tirade  to  surly 
silence,  and,  not  bearing  in  mind  that  Fifi  was 
really  a  very  clever  little  actress,  actually  thought 
she  was  in  a  boiling  rage.  Fifi  was  meanwhile 
laughing  in  her  sleeve. 


CHAPTER  VII 

A    MOST    IMPRUDENT    THING 

Madame  Bourcct  sat  in  the  snuff-colored  draw 
ing-room,  nursing  her  rheumatism,  when  in  walked 
Fifi  as  demure  as  the  cat  after  it  has  eaten  the 
canary.  She  mentioned  casually  that  she  had 
bought  a  few  things  for  her  trousseau,  and  Madame 
Bourcet  presumed  that  the  sum  total  of  expendi 
ture  was  something  like  a  hundred  francs.  Still, 
with  visions  of  the  pink  spangled  gown  which  Fifi 
wished  to  buy  for  her  presentation  to  the  Holy 
Father,  Madame  Bourcet  thought  it  well  to  say, 
warningly : 

"I  hope  your  purchases  were  oi  a  sober  and  .sub 
stantial  character,  warranted  to  wear  well,  and  in 
quiet  colors." 

"Wait,  Madame,  until  you  see  them,"  was  Fifi's 
diplomatic  answer. 

As  soon  as  she  could,  she  escaped  to  her  own 
room,  and,  locking  the  door,  she  opened  her  pre 
cious  trunk  with  the  relics  of  her  theatrical  life  in 
it,  and  began  to  handle  them  tenderly. 
140 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

"Oh,  you  dear  old  wig,  how  happy  I  was  when 
I  wore  you!"  she  said  to  herself,  clapping  the  white 
wig  over  her  own  rich  brown  hair.  "When  I  put 
you  on  I  became  a  marquise  at  the  court  of  Louis 
le  Grand,  and  how  fine  it  seemed !  Never  mind,  I 
shall  be  a  marquise  again,  and  get  forty  francs  the 
week  at  least !  And  how  nice  it  will  be  to  be  quar 
reling  with  Julie  Campionet  again,  the  wretch! 
And  Duvernct — I  shall  not  forget  to  remind  him  of 
how  I  gave  him  my  best  white  cotton  petticoat  for 
his  toga — and  sewed  it  with  my  own  fingers,  too! 
And  I  shall  say  to  him,  'Recollect,  Monsieur,  I  am 
no  longer  Fifi,  but  Mademoiselle  Josephine  Chiara- 
monti,  granddaughter  of  the  cousin  of  a  reigning 
sovereign,  and  I  am  the  young  lady  who  won  the 
grand  prize  in  the  lottery,  and  spent  it  all;  you 
never  had  a  leading  lady  before  who  knew  how  to 
spend  a  hundred  thousand  francs.'  I  think  I  can 
see  Duvernct  now— and  as  I  say  it  I  shall  toy  with 
my  paste  brooch.  I  can't  buy  any  jewels,  for 
that  wouldn't  help  me  to  get  rid  of  Louis  Bourcet, 
or  to  get  Cartouche;  so  I  shall  tell  Duvernet  that 
nothing  in  the  way  of  diamonds  seemed  worth 
while  after  those  I  had  already." 

Fifi  fondled  her  paste  brooch,  which  was  kept  in 
141 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

the  same  shrine  as  the  white  wig,  and  then  she 
clasped  to  her  breast  Cartouche's  javelin,  made 
from  a  broomstick,  and  it  seemed  to  her  almost  as 
if  she  were  clasping  Cartouche.  It  put  the  notion 
into  her  head  to  write  him  a  letter,  so  she  hastily 
closed  her  trunk,  and  sat  down  to  write. 

"Cartouche,  I  went  out  this  morning,  and  spent 
ten  thousand  francs  of  that  odious  money  I  won 
through  that  abominable  lottery  ticket  you  gave 
me.  I  should  think  you  would  never  cease  re 
proaching  yourself  if  you  knew  how  miserable  that 
lottery  ticket  has  made  me.  I  bought  some  of  the 
most  terrible  gowns  you  ever  saw,  and  a  bed  that 
cost  five  thousand  francs,  and  which  the  Empress 
couldn't  buy.  I  shall  tell  poor  Louis  and  Madame 
Bourcet  that  these  gowns  are  for  my  trousseau — 
but,  of  course,  I  have  not  the  slightest  idea  of  mar 
rying  Louis.  I  made  up  my  mind  not  to  last  night, 
the  very  moment  I  promised — and  so  I  wrote  to  you 
before  I  slept.  It  is  not  at  all  difficult  to  spend 
money;  it  is  as  easy  to  spend  five  thousand  francs 
for  a  bed  as  five,  if  you  have  the  money.  And  I  had 
the  money  in  my  reticule.  I  shan't  tell  you  now 
how  I  got  it,  but  I  did,  just  the  same,  Cartouche. 
142 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

I  long  to  sec  you.  I  did  something  for  you  to-day 
that  I  would  not  do  for  any  one  else  in  the  world. 
You  know  how  afraid  I  am  of  monkeys?  Well, 
I  can  not  explain  in  a  letter,  but  you  will  be  pleased 
when  I  tell  you  all.  Fifi." 

It  was  not  Louis  Bourcet's  habit  to  appear  in 
his  aunt's  apartment  until  eight  o'clock,  but  at  six 
o'clock,  seeing  a  great  van  drawn  up  before  the 
door,  from  which  was  disgorged  innumerable  large 
parcels  addressed  to  his  fiancee,  Louis,  like  other 
good  men,  was  vanquished  by  his  curiosity.  He 
mounted  the  stairs,  on  which  he  was  jostled  at  every 
step  by  men  carrying  huge  pasteboard  boxes  of 
every  size  and  shape,  all  addressed  to  Mademoiselle 
Chiaramonti. 

Fifi  stood,  with  a  brightly  smiling  face,  at  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  directing  the  parcels  to  be  car 
ried  into  her  own  room.  Louis,  after  speaking  to 
her,  ventured  to  say : 

"The  cost  of  your  purchases  must  be  very 
great." 

"Yes,"  answered  Fifi,  merrily,  "but  when  one  is 
about  to  make  a  grand  marriage,  such  as  I  am, 
one  should  have  good  clothes." 
143 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Louis  Bourcet,  thus  openly  tickled  under  the 
fifth  rib,  smiled  rather  anxiously,  and  replied: 

"But  one  should  be  prudent,  Mademoiselle.  An 
extravagant  wife  would  give  me  a  great  deal  of 
pain." 

"Ah,  a  woman  happy  enough  to  be  married  to 
you  could  not  give  you  a  moment's  pain,"  cried  Fifi 
tenderly. 

Louis  started  and  blushed  deeply, — this  open 
lovemaking  was  a  new  thing,  and  very  embarrass 
ing, — but  it  is  difficult  to  tell  the  lady  in  the  case 
that  she  is  too  demonstrative. 

Fifi,  with  a  truly  impish  intelligence,  saw  at  a 
glance  the  misery  she  could  inflict  upon  poor  Louis 
by  her  demonstrations  of  affection,  and  the  dis 
covery  filled  her  with  unholy  joy,  particularly  as 
Madame  Bourcet,  sitting  in  the  snuff-colored  draw 
ing-room,  was  within  hearing  through  the  open 
door. 

"Only  wait,"  cried  Fifi,  as  she  skipped  into  her 
own  room;  "only  wait  until  you  see  me  in  these 
things  I  bought  to-day,  and  you  will  be  as  much  in 
love  with  me  as  I  am  with  you !" 

Louis,  blushing  redder  than  any  beet  that  ever 
grew,  entered  the  snuff-colored  drawing-room  and 
144 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

closed  the  door  after  him.  Madame  Bourcet's 
countenance  showed  that  she  had  heard  every  word. 

"In  my  day,"  said  she,  in  a  severe  tone,  "young 
ladies  did  not  fall  in  love  with  their  fiances,  much 
less  proclaim  the  fact." 

Louis  shifted  uncomfortably  in  his  chair. 

"We  must  make  allowances,  Aunt,  for  Made 
moiselle  Chiaramonti's  early  training — and  we 
must  not  forget  that  her  grandfather  was  cousin 
to  His  Holiness,  and  Mademoiselle  has  a  hundred 
thousand  francs  of  her  own,"  Louis  mentally 
added,  "and  a  hundred  thousand  francs  is  not 
picked  up  with  every  girl." 

"She  will  not  have  a  hundred  thousand  francs 
if  she  goes  shopping  like  this  very  often,"  stiffly 
replied  Madame  Bourcet.  "I  should  not  be  sur 
prised  if  she  had  squandered  all  of  a  thousand 
francs  in  one  day." 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  a  tremendous  hat, 
with  eleven  large  feathers  on  it,  and  much  else  be 
sides,  appeared.  Fifi's  delicate  bright  face,  now 
as  solemn  as  a  judge's,  was  seen  under  this  huge 
creation.  The  red  and  green  striped  satin  cloak, 
with  the  large  lace  and  fur-trimmed  sleeves,  con 
cealed  some  of  the  yellow  brocade  with  the  big 
145 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

purple  flowers,  but  some  yards  of  it  were  visible, 
trailing  on  the  floor.  The  bird  of  paradise  fan 
and  a  muff  the  size  of  a  barrel  completed  Fifi's 
costume. 

Madame  Bourcet  gave  a  faint  scream  and  Louis 
almost  jumped  out  of  his  chair  at  the  show.  Fifi, 
parading  solemnly  up  and  down,  surveying  herself 
complacently,  remarked : 

"This  is  the  costume  I  shall  wear  when  we  pay 
our  visit  of  ceremony  to  the  Holy  Father,  upon  my 
marriage." 

A  dead  pause  followed.  Both  Madame  Bourcet 
and  Louis  were  too  stunned  to  speak.  Fifi,  seeing 
to  what  a  state  they  were  reduced,  returned  to  her 
room,  and  being  an  expert  in  quick  changes  of  cos 
tume,  reappeared  in  a  few  minutes  wearing  one  of 
the  violently  sensational  negligees,  in  which  she 
looked  like  a  living  rainbow. 

Neither  Madame  Bourcet  nor  Louis  knew  what 
to  say  at  this  catastrophe,  and  therefore  said  noth 
ing.  But  Fifi  was  voluble  enough  for  both.  She 

O  t~y 

harangued  on  the  beauty  of  the  costumes,  and 
their  extraordinary  cheapness,  without  mentioning 
the  price,  and  claimed  to  have  a  gem  of  a  gown  to 


146 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

exhibit,  which  would  eclipse  anything  she  had  yet 
shown. 

When  she  went  to  put  this  marvelous  creation  on, 
Madame  Bourcct  recovered  speech  enough  to  say : 

"A  thousand  francs,  I  said  a  few  minutes  ago — 
two  thousand  I  say  now.  Only  ninety-eight  thou 
sand  francs  of  her  fortune  is  left — of  that  I  am 
sure." 

"I  am  not  sure  there  is  so  much  left,"  responded 
Louis  gloomily. 

The  door  opened  and  a  vision  appeared.  It  was 
Fifi  in  the  spangled  white  ball  gown  a  la  grecque. 
The  narrow,  scanty  skirt  did  not  reach  to  her  ankles. 
The  waist,  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  time, 
was  under  her  arms,  and  the  bodice  was  about  four 
inches  long.  There  were  no  sleeves,  only  tiny 
straps  across  Fifi's  white  arms;  and  her  whole  out 
fit  could  have  been  put  in  Louis  Bourcet's  waistcoat 
pocket. 

Madame  Bourcet  fell  back  in  her  chair,  with  a 
groan.  Louis  rose,  red  and  furious,  and  said  in 
portentous  tones: 

"You  will  excuse  me,  Mademoiselle,  if  I  retire 
behind  the  screen  while  you  remain  with  that  cos 
tume  on  in  my  presence." 
147 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"Do  you  want  me  to  take  it  off  then?"  asked 
Fifi  airily;  but  Louis  was  already  behind  the 
screen. 

"Aunt,"  he  called  out  sternly,  "kindly  let  me 
know  when  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti  has  retired." 

"I  can  not,"  responded  Madame  Bourcct,  briefly, 
"for  I  shall  myself  retire."  And  Madame  Bourcet 
marched  away  to  her  own  room. 

"Louis,"  said  a  timid,  tender  little  voice,  "don't 
you  think  this  gown  more  suitable  to  wear  than  the 
yellow  brocade  when  we  go  to  pay  our  visit  of  cere 
mony  to  the  Holy  Father?" 

Louis  Bourcet  was  near  choking  with  wrath  at 
this.  What  right  had  she  to  call  him  Louis?  He 
had  never  asked  her  to  do  so — their  engagement 
was  not  even  formally  announced;  he  had  never 
spoken  to  her  or  of  her  except  as  Mademoiselle 
Chiaramonti.  And  that  gown  to  go  visiting  the 
Holy  Father! 

"Mademoiselle,"  replied  Louis  in  a  voice  of  thun 
der,  still  from  behind  the  screen,  "I  consider  that 
gown  wholly  improper  for  you  to  appear  before 
any  one  in,  myself  included." 

"Just  come  and  take  a  look  at  it,"  pleaded  Fifi. 


148 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

"I  will  not,  Mademoiselle;  and  I  give  you  warn 
ing  I  am  now  about  to  leave  this  room." 

"I  thought  you  would  contrive  to  get  a  look  at 
me,  and  not  stick  behind  that  screen,"  remarked 
Fifi,  with  a  sudden  explosion  of  laughter,  as  Louis 
stalked  from  behind  the  screen.  But  the  injustice 
and  impropriety  of  her  remark  was  emphasized  by 
his  indignantly  turning  his  head  away  from  her  as 
he  made  for  the  door. 

"Oh,"  cried  Fifi,  impishly,  "you  can  see  me  per 
fectly  well  in  the  mirror,  with  your  head  turned 
that  way !" 

An  angry  bang  of  the  door  after  him  was  Louis 
Bourcet's  only  answer  to  this. 

Fifi  surveyed  herself  in  the  mirror  which  she  had 
accused  the  innocent  Louis  of  studying. 

"This  gown  is  perfectly  outrageous,  and  it  would 
be  as  much  as  my  life  is  worth  to  let  Cartouche  see 
it,"  she  thought.  "But  if  only  it  can  frighten  off 
that  odious,  ridiculous  thing,  how  happy  I  shall 
be!" 

Fifi  retired  to  her  room.  Eight  o'clock  was 
the  hour  when  tea  was  served  in  the  drawing-room, 
and  both  Madame  Bourcet  and  Louis  appeared 


149 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

on  the  scene  inwardly  uncomfortable  as  to  the 
meeting  with  Fifi.  There  sat  Fifi,  but  without 
the  least  appearance  of  discomfort;  on  the  con 
trary,  more  smiling  and  more  at  ease  than  they 
had  ever  seen  her.  The  door  to  her  bedroom  was 
open,  and  as  soon  as  Madame  Bourcet  and  Louis 
entered  they  were  saluted  by  an  overwhelming  odor 
of  burning.  Madame  Bourcet,  who  was  a  fire- 
fiend,  shrieked  at  once: 

"Something  is  on  fire !  Go,  go,  inform  the  po 
lice  ;  fetch  some  water,  and  let  me  faint !" 

"There  isn't  the  least  danger,"  cried  Fifi ;  "it  is 
only  my  improper  ball  gown  which  is  burning  in  my 
grate."  And  they  saw,  through  the  open  door, 
the  ball  gown  stuffed  in  the  grate,  in  which  a  fire 
was  smoldering.  Some  pieces  of  coal  were  piled 
upon  it,  to  keep  it  from  blazing  up,  and  it  was 
being  slowly  consumed,  with  perfect  safety  to  the 
surroundings  and  an  odor  as  if  a  warehouse  were 
afire. 

Madame  Bourcet  concluded  not  to  faint,  and  she 
and  Louis  stood  staring  at  each  other.  But  they 
were  not  the  only  ones  to  be  startled.  The  other 
tenants  in  the  house  had  taken  the  alarm,  and  the 
bell  in  Madame  Bourcet's  lobby  was  being  fran- 
150 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

tically  pulled.  Fifi  ran  and  opened  the  door. 
There  stood  Doctor  Mailly,  the  eminent  surgeon, 
who  had  the  apartment  above  the  Bourcet's ;  Col 
onel  and  Madame  Bruart,  who  lived  in  the  apart 
ment  below,  and  about  half  a  dozen  others  of  the 
highly  respectable  persons  who  inhabited  this 
highly  respectable  house. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  said  Fifi,  in  the  tone  of 
easy  confidence  which  the  stage  had  bred  in  her, 
"there  is  nothing  whatever  to  be  alarmed  about.  I 
am  simply  burning  up  a  gown  which  Monsieur 
Louis  Bourcet,  my  fiance,  objected  to — and  as — as 
— I  am  madly  in  love  with  him,  I  destroy  the  gown 
in  order  to  win  his  approval.  Can  any  of  you — 
at  least  those  who  know  what  it  is  to  love  and  be 
beloved — think  me  wrong?" 

There  was  a  dead  silence.  Louis  Bourcet,  his 
face  crimson,  advanced  and  said  sternly  to  Fifi: 

"Mademoiselle,  I  desire  to  say  that  I  consider 
your  conduct  in  regard  to  the  gown  most  uncalled 
for,  most  sensational  and  wholly  opposed  to  my 
wishes." 

"So  you  wanted  to  see  me  wear  it  again,  did 
you?"  cried  Fifi,  roguishly;  and  then,  relapsing 
into  a  sentimental  attitude,  she  said:  "But  you 
151 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

don't  know  how  much  pleasure  it  gives  me  to  sac 
rifice  that  gown  for  you,  dear  Louis." 

At  this,  Louis  Bourcet,  with  a  flaming  face,  re 
plied  : 

"I  beg  of  you,  Mademoiselle,  not  to  call  me 
Louis;  and  your  expressions  of  endearment  are  as 
unpleasant  to  me  as  they  are  improper." 

The  lookers-on  began  to  laugh,  and  turned  away, 
except  Colonel  Bruart,  a  fat  old  retired  cavalry 
colonel,  on  whom  a  pretty  face  never  failed  of  its 
effect. 

"Mademoiselle,"  he  cried  gallantly,  "if  I  were 
as  young  as  your  fiance,  you  might  call  me  all  the 
endearing  names  in  the  dictionary  and  I  wouldn't 
complain.  Is  this  young  gentleman  a  French 
man  ?" 

"Yes,  Monsieur,"  replied  Fifi,  sweetly. 

"Then,"  replied  Colonel  Bruart,  turning  his 
broad  back  on  the  scene,  "I  am  glad  there  are  not 
many  like  him.  Adieu,  Mademoiselle." 

Fifi,  Madame  Bourcet  and  Louis  returned  to  the 
drawing-room.  The  Bourcets  were  stupefied.  Fifi 
was  evidently  a  dangerous  person  to  adopt  into  a 
family,  but  a  hundred  thousand  francs  is  a  great 


152 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

deal  of  money.  Fifi,  by  way  of  administering  a 
final  shock,  said: 

"Anyway,  the  gown  only  cost  five  hundred 
francs,  and  that  seemed  to  me  little  enough  to 
pay  for  pleasing  you,  Louis.  And  yet,  you  do  not 
seem  pleased." 

"I  am  not,"  responded  Louis,  who  found  Fifi's 
singular  endearments  as  trying  as  her  clothes. 

The  evening  passed  with  the  utmost  constraint 
on  every  one  except  Fifi,  who  was  entirely  at  her 
ease  and  in  great  spirits. 

Madame  Bourcct  and  Louis  each  spent  a  sleep 
less  night,  and  next  morning  held  a  council  of  war 
in  Madame  Bourcct's  bedroom.  Another  start 
ling  thought  had  occurred  to  them:  where  did 
Fifi  get  the  money  to  pay  for  the  outlandish 
things?  On:  each  parcel  Madame  Bourcct  had 
noted  the  mark  "Paid."  Fifi  had  not  gone  to  the 
bank ;  and  yet,  she  must  have  had  several  thousand 
francs  in  hand.  Possibly,  she  had  more  than  a 
hundred  thousand  francs.  The  Holy  Father  might 
have  presented  her  with  a  considerable  sum  of 
money  the  day  he  had  the  long  interview  with  her. 

There  were  many  perplexing  surmises;  and,  at 


153 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

last,  wearied  with  their  anxieties,  both  Madame 
Bourcet  and  Louis  resolved  that  Madame  Bour- 
cet,  after  attending  her  brother's  lecture,  should 
consult  that  eminent  man,  as  an  expert  in  man 
aging  heiresses.  It  had  become  a  very  serious 
question  as  to  whether  Fifi  should  be  admitted  into 
the  Bourcet  family  or  not,  but  then,  there  was  the 
money ! 

Madame  Bourcet  was  not  expected  to  return 
before  half-past  two,  as  her  conference  with 
the  professor  was  to  take  place  after  the  lecture; 
but  at  two  o'clock,  precisely,  Louis  Bourcet  ap 
peared.  He  had  spent  an  anxious  morning. 
Whichever  way  the  cat  might  jump  would  be  dis 
astrous  for  him.  If  he  went  on  with  the  marriage, 
he  was  likely  to  die  of  shock  at  some  of  Fifi's  va 
garies  ;  and  if  the  marriage  were  declared  off,  there 
was  a  hundred  thousand  francs,  and  possibly  more, 
gone,  to  say  nothing  of  the  last  chance  of  being 
allied  to  a  reigning  sovereign.  Poor  Louis  was  be 
set  with  all  the  troubles  of  the  over-righteous  man. 

As  he  entered  the  drawing-room,  Fifi,  dressed  in 
the  yellow  brocade,  which  looked  more  weird  than 
ever  by  daylight,  ran  forward  to  meet  him. 


154 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

"How  glad  I  am  that  you  have  come !"  she  cried. 
"I  have  something  beautiful  to  show  you.  Look !" 

She  threw  wide  her  bedroom  door,  and  there, 
filling  up  half  the  large  room,  stood  the  gorgeous 
blue  satin  and  gold  bed. 

Louis  was  stricken  dumb.  He  had  never  seen 
such  a  machine  before,  but  being  a  practical  per 
son  he  saw  at  a  glance  its  costliness.  He  opened 
his  mouth  to  speak,  but  no  words  came.  However, 
Fifi  remarked  rapturously : 

"It  was  made  for  the  Empress,  but  the  Em 
peror,  thinking  the  price  too  much,  refused  to  take 
it ;  and  it  was  only  five  thousand  francs,  too !" 

Then,  running  and  exhibiting  the  lace,  the  gilt 
tassels  and  other  paraphernalia  of  the  bed,  Fifi 
concluded  with  saying: 

"Of  course,  I  shan't  sleep  in  it — it's  much  too 
fine.  I  don't  think  it  was  ever  meant  to  be  slept 
in — but  see —  Here  Fifi  raised  the  valance,  and 
showed  her  own  mattress,  which  she  had  substan 
tial  reasons  for  holding  on  to,  "that's  Avhat  I  shall 
sleep  on !  No  one  shall  call  me  extravagant !" 

Louis  retreated  to  the  drawing-room.  Fifi  fol 
lowed  him,  shutting  the  door  carefully  after  her. 


155 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Just  then  there  was  a  commotion  and  a  scuffle 
heard  outside,  in  the  lobby,  and  Angelina's  shrill 
voice  raised  high. 

"That  must  be  the  monkeys !"  cried  Fifi,  running 
out. 

Two  Italians,  each  with  a  robust-lookino;  mon- 

O 

key,  were  squabbling  on  the  stairs  with  Angeline. 
The  Italians,  each  bent  on  getting  in  first,  had 
begun  a  scuffle  which  was  growing  perilously  near 
a  fight.  Neither  paid  the  slightest  attention  to 
Angeline's  fierce  demand  that  they  and  their  mon 
keys  take  themselves  off.  When  Fifi  appeared, 
both  of  the  monkey  venders  burst  into  voluble  ex 
planations  and  denunciations.  Fifi,  however,  had 
lost  something  of  her  cool  courage.  In  her  heart 
she  was  afraid  of  monkeys,  and  had  not  meant  to 
let  them  get  so  far  as  the  drawing-room  door. 

"Ah,"  she  cried  to  the  Italians,  thinking  to 
pacify  both  of  them,  "here  is  a  franc  apiece  for 
your  trouble,  and  take  the  monkeys  away.  I  don't 
think  either  will  suit." 

"No!"  shrieked  both  of  the  Italians  in  chorus. 
"We  have  brought  our  monkeys  and  Mademoiselle 
must  at  least  examine  them." 

This  was  anything  but  an  agreeable  proposition 
156 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

to  Fifi ;  nor  was  she  reassured  by  each  of  the  Ital 
ians  declaring  vehemently  that  his  rival's  monkey 
was  as  fierce  as  a  lion  and  a  disgrace  to  the  simian 
tribe.  Fifi  secretly  thought  that  both  of  them  were 
telling  the  truth  in  that  respect,  and  totally  dis 
believed  them  when  each  swore  that  his  own  mon 
key  was  a  companion  fit  for  kings.  All  Fifi  could 
do,  therefore,  was  to  say,  with  an  assumption  of 
bravado : 

"I  will  give  you  each  two  francs  if  you  will  go 
away  and  bring  the  monkeys  to-morrow." 

"Three  francs !"  shouted  one  of  her  compatriots, 
while  the  other  bawled,  "Five  francs !" 

Fifi  had  as  much  as  ten  francs  about  her,  so  she 
gladly  paid  the  ten  francs,  and  the  Italians  de 
parted,  each  swearing  he  would  come  the  next  day, 
and  would,  meanwhile,  have  the  other's  blood. 

Fifi  returned  to  the  drawing-room.  On  the 
hearth-rug  stood  Louis,  pale  and  determined. 

"Mademoiselle,"  he  said,  "there  must  be  an  end 
of  this." 

"Of  what?"  asked  Fifi,  innocently. 

"Either  of  the  performances  of  yesterday  and 
to-day,  or  of  our  arrangement  to  marry." 


157 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"O-o-o-h!"  wailed  Fifi,  "just  as  I  had  fallen  so 
beautifully  in  love  with  you !" 

Louis's  face  turned  paler  still. 

"Mademoiselle,  I  do  not  know  how  to  take  such 
speeches." 

"I  see  you  don't,"  replied  Fifi. 

"It  is  the  first  time  I  have  ever  been  thrown  with 
a  young  person  of  your  profession,"  began  Louis. 

"Or  with  an  heiress  worth  a  hundred  thousand 
francs,  and  the  relative  of  a  reigning  sovereign — ' 
added  Fifi,  maliciously. 

Louis  hesitated,  and  changed  from  one  foot  to 
the  other.  It  was  hardly  likely  that  the  Holy 
Father  would  let  so  desirable  a  match  for  his  young 
relative  escape.  Louis's  esteem  for  himself  was 
as  tall  as  the  Vendome  column,  and  he  naturally 
thought  everybody  took  him  at  his  own  valuation. 
The  Holy  Father's  possible  attitude  in  the  matter 
was  alarming  and  disconcerting  to  poor  Louis. 

"And  besides,"  added  Fifi,  "your  attentions  have 
been  compromising.  Do  you  recall,  Monsieur — - 
since  you  forbid  me  to  call  you  Louis — that  you 
have  played  a  game  of  cribbage  with  me  every 
evening  since  I  have  lived  under  your  aunt's 
charge?  Is  that  nothing?  Is  my  reputation  to  be 
158 


A  MOST  IMPRUDENT  THING 

sacrificed  to  your  love  of  cribbage?  Do  you  sup 
pose  that  I  shall  let  my  relative,  the  Holy  Father, 
remain  in  ignorance  of  those  games  of  cribbage? 
Beware,  Monsieur  Louis  Bourcet,  that  you  are  not 
made  to  repent  of  the  heartless  way  in  which  you 
entrapped  my  affections  at  the  cribbage-board." 

And  Fifi  walked  with  great  dignity  into  her 
bedroom  and  banged  the  door  after  her.  Once 
inside,  she  opened  her  arms  wide  and  whispered 
softly : 

"Cartouche!  Cartouche!  You  will  not  be  any 
such  lover  as  this  creature !" 

Meanwhile,  Madame  Bourcet  had  returned  from 
her  conference  with  her  brother.  Angeline  had  met 
her  on  the  stairs  with  a  gruesome  tale  of  the  blue 
satin  bed,  and  the  two  monkeys,  who  had  been  in 
vited  to  call  the  next  day.  It  was  too  much  for 
Madame  Bourcet.  She  dropped  on  a  chair  as 
soon  as  she  reached  the  drawing-room.  There 
Louis  Bourcet  burst  forth  with  his  account  of  the 
blue  satin  bed  and  the  monkeys,  adding  many  har 
rowing  details  omitted  by  Angeline. 

"And  what  does  my  uncle  say?"  he  asked, 
gloomily. 

"He  says,"  replied  Madame  Bourcet,  more 
159 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

gloomily,  "that  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti's  con 
duct  is  such  as  to  drive  any  prudent  man  to  dis 
traction  ;  and  that  if  you  marry  her  with  even 
more  than  a  hundred  thousand  francs'  fortune,  you 
will  be  doing  a  most  imprudent  thing." 

Madame  Bourcet  paused  for  Louis  to  digest  this. 
Then,  she  continued,  after  an  impressive  pause : 

"And  my  brother  also  says,  and  desired  me  par 
ticularly  to  impress  this  upon  you — that  a  dot 
of  a  hundred  thousand  francs  is  something  enor 
mous  in  our  station  of  life;  that  he  does  not 
know  of  a  single  acquaintance  of  his  own  who  has 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  marry  so  much ;  and  his 
own  good  fortune  in  marrying  two  hundred  thou 
sand  francs  is  absolutely  unprecedented.  More 
over,  through  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti's  connec 
tion  with  the  Holy  Father,  your  prospects,  no 
doubt,  would  be  splendidly  advanced ;  and  to 
throw  away  such  a  chance  would  be — a  most  im 
prudent  thing." 

So  all  the  comfort  poor  Louis  got  was,  that  what 
ever  he  did,  he  would  be  doing  a  most  imprudent 
thing.  The  knowledge  of  this  made  him  a  truly 
miserable  man. 


160 


CHAPTER  VIII 

AN    OLD    LADY    AND    A    LIMP 

Nearly  a  week  passed,  with  the  utmost  constraint 
upon  the  little  family  in  the  Rue  de  1'Echclle,  ex 
cept  Fifi.  Nothing  could  equal  the  airy  insou 
ciance  of  that  young  woman.  She  was  no  more 
the  dumb,  docile  creature  Avhose  soul  and  spirit 
seemed  frozen,  whose  will  was  benumbed,  but 
Mademoiselle  Fifi  of  the  Imperial  Theater.  Fifi 
delighted  in  acting — and  she  was  now  acting  in 
her  own  drama,  and  with  the  most  exquisite  enjoy 
ment  of  the  situation. 

At  intervals,  during  the  week,  Italians  with  mon 
keys  appeared;  but  Angeline  adopted  with  these 
gentry  a  simple,  but  effective,  method  of  her  own, 
which  was  secretly  approved  by  Fifi.  This  was  to 
appear  suddenly  on  the  scene  with  a  kettle  of  boil 
ing  water,  which  she  threatened  to  distribute  impar 
tially  upon  the  monkeys  and  their  owners.  This 
never  failed  to  stampede  the  enemy.  Fifi  scolded 
and  complained  bitterly  of  this,  but  Angeline  took 
161 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

a  firm  stand  against  monkeys  and  Italians — much 
to  Fifi's  relief. 

The  subject  of  Fifi's  marriage  to  Louis  was  not 
touched  upon  by  either  Madame  Bourcet  or  Louis 
in  that  week,  although  Louis  continued  to  spend 
his  evenings  with  his  aunt  and  Fifi,  and  did  not 
intermit  the  nightly  game  of  cribbage.  If  it  was 
imprudent  to  marry  Fifi,  it  was  likewise  imprudent 
not  to  marry  her — so  reasoned  the  unhappy  Louis, 
who,  like  Hamlet,  Prince  of  Denmark,  was  of  two 
minds  at  the  same  time,  and  fairly  distracted  be 
tween  them. 

But,  if  the  Bourcets  let  the  marriage  question 
remain  discreetly  in  the  background,  not  so  Fifi. 
Having  discovered  that  Louis  suffered  acutely 
from  her  manifestations  of  affection,  Fifi  proceeded 
to  subject  him  to  a  form  of  torture  in  high  repute 
among  the  most  bloodthirsty  savages  of  North 
America.  This  consists  in  smearing  the  victim's 
body  all  over  with  honey,  and  then  letting  him  be 
slowly  stung  to  death  by  gnats  and  flics.  Figura 
tively  speaking,  she  smeared  poor  Louis  with  honey 
from  his  head  to  his  heels,  and  then  had  a  delicious 
joy  in  seeing  him  writhe  under  his  agonies.  And 


162 


AN  OLD  LADY  AND  A  LIMP 

the  innocence  and  simplicity  with  which  she  did  it 
fooled  the  unfortunate  Louis  completely. 

One  thing  seemed  clear  to  him :  even  if  the  Holy 
Father  were  willing  to  give  up  so  desirable  a  hus 
band  for  his  young  relative,  Fifi,  herself,  would 
have  to  be  reckoned  with ;  and  it  all  came,  Louis 
thought,  with  a  rainbow  of  vanity  athwart  the 
gloom,  of  his  being  so  dreadfully  handsome,  fasci 
nating  and  virtuous. 

To  Fifi  this  was  the  comedy  part  of  the  drama — 
and  she  played  it  for  all  there  was  in  it. 

She  reckoned  the  shopping  episode  as  the  first 
act  of  the  play.  That  was  through,  and  there  must 
be  a  second  act.  Fifi  was  too  much  of  an  artist 
to  repeat  herself.  She  felt  she  had  reached  the 
limit  of  horrors  in  shopping,  and  she  still  had 
nearly  ninety  thousand  francs  sewed  up  in  her  mat 
tress.  Some  new  way  must  be  devised  for  getting 
rid  of  it.  She  thought  of  endowing  beds  in  hos 
pitals,  of  giving  dots  to  young  ladies,  not  so  for 
tunate  as  herself  in  having  a  man  like  Cartouche, 
who  declined  a  fortune — and  a  thousand  other 
schemes ;  but  all  involved  some  vague  and  mysteri 
ous  business  transactions  which  frightened  Fifi. 


163 


But,  by  a  turn  of  fate,  most  unexpected,  it  was 
Cartouche  who  showed  her  a  way  out  of  her  difficul 
ties,  and  it  filled  her  with  delight.  It  was  in  a  letter 
Cartouche  wrote  her  in  response  to  the  two  she  had 
sent  him,  one  after  the  other.  Cartouche's  letter 
was  written  in  very  black  ink,  in  a  large,  slovenly 
hand,  on  a  big  sheet  of  paper,  and  Fifi  knew  per 
fectly  well  that  he  was  in  a  rage  when  writing  it. 

"Fifi :  What  nonsense  is  this  you  write  me,  that 
as  soon  as  you  promised  to  marry  Louis  Bourcet 
you  determined  not  to  marry  him  ?  What  have  you 
been  doing?  Don't  you  know  if  you  squander 
your  money  neither  Louis  Bourcet  nor  any  man 
of  his  class  will  marry  you?  Four  thousand  francs 
for  your  trousseau  is  outrageous ;  as  for  the  blue- 
satin  bed  the  Empress  could  not  buy,  I  can  not 
trust  myself  to  speak  of  it.  If  you  continue  acting 
in  this  way,  I  will  not  come  to  your  wedding,  nor 
let  Toto  come — that  is,  if  Monsieur  Bourcet  or  any 
other  man  will  marry  you.  You  seem  to  be  bitten 
with  the  desire  to  do  everything  the  Empress  does, 
and  a  little  more  besides.  You  might  follow  the 
Empress'  example,  and  going  in  your  coach  and 
six,  with  outriders,  to  the  banking-house  of  Lafitte, 
164 


AN  OLD  LADY  AND  A  LIMP 

make  a  little  gift  of  a  hundred  thousand  francs  to 
the  fund  for  soldiers'  orphans.  Fifi,  you  are  a 
goose,  and  there  is  no  disguising  it.  I  hope  Mon 
sieur  Bourcet  will  use  the  strong  hand  on  you,  for 
your  own  good.  Cartouche. 

"P.  S.  I  could  tell  you  many  interesting  things 
about  Toto,  but  I  am  so  angry  I  can  not  write  any 
more." 

Fifi  read  this  letter  over,  with  a  serene  smile. 
Of  course  Cartouche  was  angry — but  that  was 
rather  amusing. 

She  laid  the  letter  down,  and  looked  up  at  the 
patch  of  blue  sky  visible  from  her  bedroom  win 
dow.  She  seemed  to  see  in  that  blue  patch  all  her 
former  life,  so  full  of  work,  of  makeshifts,  of 
gaiety,  of  vivid  interest — and  compared  with  it 
the  dull  and  spiritless  existence  before  her — that 
is,  which  had  lately  been  before  her;  because  now 
the  determination  to  return  to  the  old  life  was  as 
strong  as  the  soul  within  her. 

She  took  Cartouche's  letter  up  and  read  it  again, 
and  a  cry  of  joy  came  from  her  lips.  Give  the 
money  to  the  soldiers'  fund !  She  remembered  hav 
ing  heard  Madame  Bourcet  and  Louis  speaking  of 
165 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

this  fund  the  night  before.  The  Empress  had 
gone  in  state,  as  Cartouche  said,  to  make  her 
splendid  gift — and  Lafitte's  banking-house  was  not 
fifteen  minutes  from  where  she  was  in  the  Rue  de 
1'Echelle. 

In  a  flash,  Fifi  saw  she  could  do  it.  She  had  her 
white  wig  and  outside  of  her  door  was  the  press  in 
which  Angeline  kept  her  best  black  bonnet,  black 
shawl  and  gown,  in  which  any  woman  could  look  a 
hundred  years  old.  Oh,  it  was  the  simplest  thing  in 
the  world !  The  next  day  was  Thursday,  the  morn 
ing  Madame  Bourcet  always  went  out,  and  An 
geline  always  stayed  at  home.  It  could  be  done 
within  twenty-four  hours ! 

Fifi  danced  about  her  room  in  rapture.  It  was 
now  late  in  the  afternoon;  she  could  scarcely  wait 
until  the  next  day.  How  precious  was  her  white 
wig  to  her  then ! 

"Cartouche  said  I  was  silly  to  bring  all  these 
things  with  me,"  she  said  to  herself  gleefully ; 
"and  I  had  to  do  it  secretly — but  see,  how  sensible 
I  was!  The  fact  is,  I  have  a  great  deal  of  sense, 
and  I  know  what  is  good  for  me,  much  better  than 
Cartouche  does,  or  the  Bourcets,  or  the  Em 
peror,  or  even  the  Holy  Father.  How  do  they 
166 


AN  OLD  LADY  AND  A  LIMP 

know  what  is  going  on  inside  of  my  head?  Only 
I  know  perfectly  well.  And  to  think  that  Car 
touche  should  have  suggested  such  a  good  way  for 
me  to  get  rid  of  the  hateful  money !  What  an  ad 
vertisement  it  will  be!  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti, 
granddaughter  of  the  Pope's  cousin,  winner  of  the 
first  prize  in  the  grand  lottery,  and  giving  ninety 
thousand  francs  to  the  soldiers'  orphans!  Made 
moiselle  Mars,  at  the  Theatre  Fran£aisc,  never  had 
half  such  an  advertisement.  She  has  only  her  art 
to  advertise  her!  I  shall  be  worth  fifty  francs  the 
week  to  any  manager  in  Paris.  No  doubt  the  high- 
priced  theaters  will  try  to  get  me,  and  all  the  peo 
ple  who  think  they  know,  like  the  Emperor  and 
the  Holy  Father,  would  say  I  should  go  to  a  thea 
ter  on  the  other  side  of  the  river.  But  I  do  not 
understand  the  style  of  acting  at  the  high-priced 
theaters.  I  should  be  hissed.  No.  The  cheap  the 
aters  for  me,  and  the  kings  and  queens  and  Roman 
consuls  and  things  like  that.  Oh,  Fifi,  what  a 
clever,  clever  creature  you  are !" 

The  happier  Fifi  was  the  more  she  loved  to  tor 
ment  Louis  Bourcet,  and  she  was  so  very  demon 
strative  that  night,  and  made  so  many  allusions  to 
the  bliss  she  expected  to  enjoy  with  him,  that  both 
167 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Louis  and  Madame  Bourcet  were  half  distracted. 
But  Fifi  had  such  a  lot  of  money — and  was  the 
granddaughter  of  the  Holy  Father's  cousin ! 

Next  morning,  Madame  Bourcet,  as  usual,  made 
ready  to  go  to  the  lecture,  at  twelve  o'clock.  Fifi 
had  never  once  proposed  going  out  alone,  and  was 
at  that  moment  engaged  in  needlework  in  her  own 
room.  Madame  Bourcet,  therefore,  started  off, 
without  any  misgivings,  except  the  general  gloom 
produced  by  the  thought  of  either  having  Fifi  in 
the  family,  or  not  having  her. 

Scarcely  had  Madame  Bourcet's  respectable  fig 
ure  disappeared  around  the  corner,  before  another 
figure  equally  respectable,  and  apparently  a  good 
deal  older,  emerged  upon  the  street.  It  was  Fifi, 
dressed  in  Angeline's  clothes,  and  with  a  green 
barege  veil  falling  over  her  face.  She  knew  how 
to  limp  as  if  she  were  seventy-five,  instead  of  nine 
teen,  and  cleverly  concealed  her  mouthful  of  beau 
tiful  white  teeth.  On  her  arm  was  a  little  covered 
basket  which  might  have  held  eggs,  but  which 
really  held  nearly  ninety  thousand  francs  in  thou 
sand-franc  notes. 

Fifi  knew  the  way  to  the  banking-house  of  La- 


168 


AN  OLD  LADY  AND  A  LIMP 

fittc  perfectly  well.  It  was  then  in  a  great  gloomy 
building  in  the  Hue  St.  Jacques.  In  less  than  fif 
teen  minutes  she  was  mounting  the  steps,  and  soon 
found  herself  in  a  large  room,  around  which  was  an 
iron  grating,  and  behind  this  grating  were  in 
numerable  clerks  at  work. 

Fifi  went  to  the  window  nearest  the  door,  and 
asked  of  a  very  alert-looking  young  clerk,  at  work 
at  the  desk : 

"Will  you  be  kind  enough,  Monsieur,  to  tell  me 
where  I  can  make  a  contribution  to  the  fund  for 
the  soldiers'  orphans?" 

"Here,  Madame,"  replied  the  young  clerk,  ey 
ing  superciliously  the  little  basket  Fifi  laid  down 
on  the  ledge  before  him.  People  made  all  sorts  of 
contributions  to  this  fund,  and  the  spruce  young 
clerk  had  several  times  had  his  sensibilities  out 
raged  by  offerings  of  old  shoes,  of  assignats,  even 
of  a  live  cock.  The  basket  before  him  looked  as 
if  it  held  a  cat — probably  one  of  the  rare  kind, 
which  the  old  lady  would  propose  that  he  should 
sell,  and  give  the  proceeds  to  the  fund.  Out  of  the 
basket  the  white-haired  old  lady  with  the  green 
barege  veil  took  a  parcel,  and  laying  it  down,  said 
humbly : 

169 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"Monsieur,  this  gift  comes  from  one  who  has  no 
husband  and  no  son  to  give  to  the  empire." 

"To  whom  shall  I  make  out  the  receipt,  and  for 
how  much,  Madame?"  asked  the  clerk;  but  the  old 
lady  was  already  out  of  the  room,  and  going  down 
the  steps  much  faster  than  one  would  expect  a 
person  of  her  age  to  be  able  to  do. 

Once  outside  Fifi  stepped  into  a  dark  archway, 
from  which  she  emerged,  a  minute  later,  wearing 
her  own  bonnet  and  red  cloak  and  her  own  skirt. 
All  of  Angelina's  paraphernalia,  together  with  the 
white  wig,  was  squeezed  into  a  bundle  which  Fifi 
cleverly  concealed  under  her  cloak.  The  basket 
she  had  tossed  down  an  open  cellar  under  the  arch 
way. 

She  called  a  closed  cab,  and  stuffing  her  bundle 
under  the  seat,  ordered  the  cabman  to  drive  her  in 
a  direction  which  she  knew  would  take  her  past 
the  bank.  She  had  the  exquisite  pleasure  of  seeing 
half  a  dozen  clerks  rush  distractedly  out,  inquir 
ing  frantically  if  any  one  had  seen  in  the  neigh 
borhood  an  old  lady  with  a  limp,  a  green  veil  and  a 
basket.  Fifi  stopped  her  cab  long  enough  to  get  a 
description  of  herself  from  one  of  the  wildest- 
looking  of  the  clerks. 

170 


AN  OLD  LADY  AND  A  LIMP 

"But  why,  Monsieur,  do  you  wish  to  find  this 
old  lady?"  Fifi  asked. 

"Because,  Mademoiselle,  she  has  stolen  ninety 
thousand  francs  from  this  bank  a  moment  ago  or 
given  ninety  thousand  francs  to  something  or 
other,"  cried  the  clerk,  who  had  entirely  con 
founded  the  story  of  Fifi's  adventure,  which  had 
been  imparted  to  him  in  haste  and  confusion. 

Fifi,  nearly  dying  with  laughter,  rolled  away  in 
her  cab.  The  last  glimpse  she  had  of  her  late 
friend,  the  bank  clerk,  he  had  found  the  basket  in 
the  archway,  and  was  declaiming  with  disheveled 
hair  and  wild  gesticulations  concerning  the  rob 
bery,  or  the  gift,  he  did  not  know  which. 

Fifi  was  not  away  from  home  more  than  half  an 
hour,  and  when  Angeline,  about  one  o'clock,  passed 
through  the  snuff-colored  drawing-room,  she  saw 
Fifi,  through  the  open  door,  sitting  at  the  writing- 
table  in  her  bedroom,  and  scribbling  away  for  dear 
life.  This  is  what  she  wrote: 

"Cartouche:  I  have  got  your  letter  and  I  have 
followed  your  advice — I  will  not  say  exactly  how — 
but  you  will  shortly  see  me,  I  think,  in  the  dear  old 
street  of  the  Black  Cat.  Fifi." 

171 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Madame  Bourcet  returned  punctually  at  two 
o'clock,  and  as  the  weather  had  become  bad,  she 
and  Fifi  spent  the  afternoon  together  in  the  snuff- 
colored  drawing-room. 

When  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  arrived,  Louis 
Bourcet,  as  usual,  appeared.  He  had  news  to  com 
municate,  and  gave  a  fearful  and  wonderful  ac 
count  of  the  proceedings  at  the  banking-house,  in 
which  it  was  represented  that  a  mysterious  old  lady, 
with  a  basket  and  a  limp,  had  appeared,  and  had 
either  stolen  ninety  thousand  francs,  or  given 
ninety  thousand  francs  to  the  fund  for  the  soldiers' 
orphans,  nobody  outside  of  the  bank  knew  exactly 
which.  The  excitement  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 
bank  had  been  tremendous,  and  such  a  crowd  had 
collected  that  the  gens  d'armes  had  been  compelled 
to  charge  in  order  to  clear  the  street.  The  basket 
had  been  found,  but  the  limp,  along  with  the  old 
lady,  had  vanished. 

All  sorts  of  stories  were  flying  about  concerning 
the  affair,  some  people  declaring  that  the  troops 
from  the  nearest  barracks  had  been  ordered  out,  a 
cordon  placed  around  the  banking-house,  and  the 
mysterious  old  lady  was  nothing  less  than  a  deter 
mined  ruffian,  who  had  disguised  himself  as  an  old 
TO 


woman,  and  was  the  leader  of  a  gang  of  desperate 
robbers,  determined  on  looting  the  bank.  Louis 
Bourcet  held  firmly  to  this  opinion. 

"It  is  my  belief,"  he  said  solemnly,  "that  it  was 
a  scheme  which  involved  not  only  robbery,  but  pos 
sibly  assassination.  The  old  woman  was  no  old 
woman,  but  a  reckless  criminal,  who,  by  a  clever 
disguise,  got  into  the  bank,  and  was  only  pre 
vented  from  carrying  out  some  dreadful  design  by 
the  coolness  and  decision  of  the  bank  employees. 
The  basket,  which  is  marked  with  the  initials  A.  D., 
is  held  at  the  bureau  of  the  arrondissement,  and  at 
the  investigation  to-morrow  morning — mark  my 
words,  that  basket  will  be  the  means  of  disclosing 
a  terrible  plot  against  the  banking-house  of  La- 
fitte." 

Madame  Bourcet  listened  to  these  words  of  wis 
dom  with  the  profoundest  respect — but  Fifi  uttered 
a  convulsive  sound  which  she  smothered  in  her 
handkerchief  and  which,  she  explained,  was  caused 
by  her  agitation  at  the  sensational  story  she  had 
just  heard. 

Louis  was  so  flattered  by  the  tribute  of  at 
tention  to  his  powers  of  seeing  farther  into  a 
millstone  than  any  one  else,  that  he  harangued 
173 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

the  whole  evening  upon  this  violent  attempt  on 
Lafitte's  banking-house  in  particular  and  the  dan 
gers  of  robbery  in  general.  He  even  forgot  the 
game  of  cribbage.  When  he  rose  to  go,  at  ten 
o'clock,  both  Madame  Bourcet  and  Fifi  protested 
that  they  expected  to  be  murdered  in  their  beds 
by  a  gang  of  robbers  before  daylight.  Louis 
promised  to  come  to  the  dejeuner  at  eleven  the  next 
morning,  to  give  them  the  latest  particulars  of  this 
nefarious  attempt  to  rob  the  bank. 

Fifi  alone  in  her  own  room  went  into  spasms  of 
delight.  Her  freedom  was  close  at  hand — and  soon, 
soon,  she  could  return  to  that  happy  life  of  hard 
work  and  deep  affection  she  had  once  known. 
When  she  slipped  into  bed,  the  hard  lump  was  not 
in  her  mattress. 

"Think,"  she  said  to  herself,  lying  awake  in  the 
dark,  "of  the  good  that  hateful  money  will  do  now 
— of  the  poor  children  warmed  and  fed  and  clothed. 
Giving  it  away  like  this  is  not  half  so  difficult  as 
spending  it  on  hats  and  gowns  and  monkeys,  and 
I  think  I  may  reckon  on  getting  back  to  the  deal- 
street  of  the  Black  Cat  soon — very  soon." 

And  so,  she  fell  into  a  deep,  sweet  sleep,  to 
dream  of  Cartouche,  and  Toto  and  all  the  people 
174 


AN  OLD  LADY  AND  A  LIMP 

at  the  Imperial  Theater,  including  Julie  Cam- 
pionet. 

Next  morning,  Fifi  awaited  the  dejeuner  with 
feelings  of  entrancing  pleasure.  She  loved  to  see 
Louis  Bourcct  make  a  fool  of  himself,  and  longed 
to  make  a  fool  of  him — this  naughty  Fifi. 

She  was  gratified,  for  at  eleven  o'clock,  Louis 
appeared,  looking,  for  once,  a  little  sheepish.  The 
desperate  robbery  had  been  no  robbery  at  all,  but 
a  gift  of  ninety  thousand  francs  to  the  fund  for 
the  soldiers'  orphans.  Louis  had  bought  several 
newspapers,  and  each  contained  the  official  an 
nouncement  of  the  banking-house  of  Lafitte,  with 
a  request  that  the  generous  donor  come  forward 
and  discover  her  identity. 

Louis  Bourcet,  like  a  good  many  other  people, 
could  always  construct  a  new  hypothesis  to  meet 
any  new  development  in  a  case.  He  at  once  de 
clared  that  the  donor  must  be  a  conscience-stricken 
woman,  who  had  at  some  time  committed  a  crime 
and  wished  to  atone  for  it.  He  harped  on  this 
theme  while  Fifi  was  soberly  drinking  her  choco 
late  and  inwardly  quivering  with  delight.  She 
waited  until  one  of  Louis's  long-winded  periods 
came  to  an  end,  when,  the  spirit  of  the  actress 
175 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

within  her,  and  the  piercing  joy  of  making  Louis 
Bourcet  look  like  a  guy,  were  too  much  for  her. 
Putting  down  her  cup,  therefore,  and  looking 
about  her  in  a  way  to  command  attention,  Fifi 
said,  in  a  soft,  low  voice: 

"Madame  Bourcet — and  dear  Louis —  here 
Louis  shuddered — "I  have  something  to  say  to  you, 
concerning  that  mysterious  old  woman  with  the 
limp  and  the  basket.  First,  let  me  say,  that  until 
yesterday,  I  kept  my  fortune  of  nearly  ninety 
thousand  francs  in  my  mattress,  and  my  old  shoes 
I  kept  in  the  bank.  For  people  are  always  losing 
their  money  in  banks,  but  I  never  heard  of  any  one 
losing  a  franc  that  was  sewed  up  in  a  mattress." 

There  was  a  pause.  Louis  Bourcet  sat  as  if 
turned  to  stone,  with  his  chocolate  raised  to  his  lips, 
and  his  mouth  wide  open  to  receive  it,  but  he 
seemed  to  lose  the  power  of  moving  his  hand 
or  shutting  his  mouth.  Madame  Bourcet  appeared 
to  be  paralyzed  where  she  sab. 

"Yes,"  said  Fifi,  who  felt  as  if  she  were  once 
more  on  the  beloved  boards  of  the  Imperial  The 
ater.  "I  kept  my  money  where  I  knew  it  would  be 
safe.  And  then,  seeing  I  had  totally  failed  to  cap 
tivate  the  affections  of  my  fiance,  I  determined  to 
176 


AN  OLD  LADY  AND  A  LIMP 

perform  an  act  of  splendid  generosity,  that  would 
compel  his  admiration,  and  possibly,  his  tender 
ness.  So,  yesterday,  when  you,  Madame,  were  out, 
I  dressed  myself  up  in  Angelina's  Sunday  clothes, 
took  her  small  fruit  basket,  and  putting  all  my 
fortune  in  the  basket,  went  to  the  bank,  and  handed 
it  all  over,  in  notes  of  the  Bank  of  France,  to  the 
fund  for  soldiers'  orphans." 

There  was  not  a  sound,  except  Madame  Bour- 
cet's  gasping  for  breath.  Louis  Bourcct  had 
turned  of  a  sickly  pallor,  his  mouth  remaining 
wide  open,  and  his  cup  still  suspended.  This  lasted 
for  a  full  minute,  when  the  door  suddenly  opened, 
and  Angelina  appeared  from  the  kitchen. 

"Madame,"  she  cried  excitedly,  "there  have  been 
thieves  here  as  well  as  at  the  bank.  My  fruit  bas 
ket  is  gone — I  can  swear  I  saw  it  yesterday  morn 
ing.  It  is  marked  with  my  initials,  A.  D.,  and  I 
trust,  by  the  blessing  of  God,  the  thief  will  be 
found  and  sent  to  the  galleys  for  life." 

At  this  apparently  trivial  catastrophe,  Madame 
Bourcet  uttered  a  loud  shriek;  Louis  Bourcet 
dropped  his  cup,  which  crashed  upon  the  table, 
smashing  the  water  carafe;  Angclinc,  amazed  at 
the  result  of  her  simple  remark,  ran  wildly  about 
177 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

the  room  shrieking,  "Thieves !  thieves !  Send  for 
the  police !"  Madame  Bourcct  continued  to  emit 
screams  at  short  intervals,  while  Louis  Bourcct, 
his  head  in  his  hands,  groaned  in  anguish. 

Fifi,  alone,  sat  serene  and  smiling,  and  as  soon 
as  she  could  make  herself  heard,  cried  to  Louis : 

"Dear  Louis,  tell  me,  I  beg  of  you,  if  you  ap 
prove  of  my  course?" 

"No!"  bawled  Louis,  for  once  forgetting  to  be 
correct  in  manner  and  deportment.  Then,  rising 
to  his  feet,  and  staggering  to  the  door,  he  said  in 
a  sepulchral  voice:  "Everything  is  over  between 
us.  If  the  Holy  Father  takes  measures  to  make 
me  fulfil  my  compact  to  marry  you,  I  shall  leave 
France — I  shall  flee  my  country.  Mademoiselle, 
permit  me  to  say  you  arc  an  impossible  person. 
Adieu  forever,  I  hope !"  With  this  he  was  gone. 

Madame  Bourcet  at  this  recovered  enough  to 
scream  to  Angeline,  in  a  rapid  crescendo: 

"Get  a  van — get  a  van — GET  A  VAN  !" 

Fifi  knew  perfectly  well  what  that  meant,  and 
was  in  ecstasies.  She  flew  to  her  room,  huddled 
her  belongings  together,  saying  to  herself : 

"Cartouche,  I  shall  see  you!   And,  Cartouche,  I 


178 


AN  OLD  LADY  AND  A  LIMP 

love  you !   And,  Cartouche,  I  shall  make  you  marry 
me — me,  your  own  Fifi !" 

In  a  little  while  the  van  was  at  the  door  and 
Fifi's  boxes  were  piled  in.  She  threw  to  Angeline 
the  odious  brown  gown,  with  the  green  spots,  and 
a  ten-franc  piece  besides — which  somewhat  molli 
fied  Angeline,  without  changing  her  opinion  that 
Fifi  was  a  dangerous  and  explosive  person  to  have 
about.  She  promised  to  send  for  the  blue  satin  bed. 
Then  Fifi,  reverting  to  her  old  natural  self, 
climbed  into  the  van  along  with  her  boxes,  and 
jolted  off,  in  the  direction  of  the  street  of  the 
Black  Cat,  and  was  happier  than  she  had  yet  been 
since  she  had  left  it. 


179 


CHAPTER  IX 

BACK    TO    THE    BLACK    CAT 

About  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  van, 
containing  Fifi  and  her  wardrobe,  drew  up  before 
the  tall  old  house  in  the  street  of  the  Black  Cat 
where  she  had  lived  ever  since  she  was  a  little, 
black-eyed  child,  who  still  cried  for  her  mother, 
and  who  would  not  be  comforted  except  upon  Car 
touche's  knee.  How  familiar,  how  actual,  how  de 
lightfully  redolent  of  home  was  the  narrow  little 
street !  .  Fifi  saw  it  in  her  mind's  eye  long  before 
she  reached  it,  and  in  her  gladness  of  heart  sang 
snatches  of  songs  like  the  one  Toto  thought  was 
made  for  him,  Le  petit  mousse  nolr.  As  the  van 
clattered  into  the  street,  Fifi,  sitting  on  her  boxes, 
craned  her  neck  out  to  watch  a  certain  garret  win 
dow,  and  from  thence  she  heard  two  short,  raptur 
ous  barks.  It  was  Toto.  Fifi,  jumping  down, 
opened  the  house  door,  and  ran  headlong  up  the 
dark,  narrow  well-known  stair.  Half  way  up,  she 
met  Toto,  jumping  down  the  steps  two  at  a  time. 
180 


BACK    TO    THE    BLACK    CAT 

Fifi  caught  him  to  her  heart,  and  wept  plentifully, 
tears  of  joy. 

But  there  was  some  one  else  to  see — and  that  was 
Cartouche,  who  was  always  in  his  room  at  that 
hour. 

"Now,  Toto,"  said  Fifi,  as  she  slipped  softly  up 
the  stairs,  still  squeezing  him,  "I  am  about  to 
make  a  formal  offer  of  my  hand  to  Cartouche; 
and  mind,  you  are  not  to  interrupt  me  with  bark 
ing  and  whining  and  scratching.  It  is  very  awk 
ward  to  be  interrupted  on  such  occasions,  and  you 
must  behave  yourself  suitably  to  the  situation." 

"Yap !"  assented  Toto. 

The  door  to  Cartouche's  room  was  a  half-door, 
the  upper  part  of  glass.  This  upper  half-door 
was  a  little  ajar,  and  Fifi  caught  sight  erf  Car 
touche.  He  was  sitting  on  his  poor  bed,  with  a 
large  piece  of  tin  before  him,  which  he  was  trans 
forming  into  a  medieval  shield.  He  was  hard  at 
work — for  who  ever  saw  Cartouche  idle?  But  once 
or  twice  he  stopped,  and  picked  up  something  ly 
ing  on  the  table  before  him,  and  looked  at  it.  Fifi 
recognized  it  at  once.  It  was  a  little  picture  of 
herself,  taken  long  ago,  when  she  used  to  sit  on 
Cartouche's  knee  and  beg  him  to  tell  her  stories. 
181 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Fifi  felt  a  lump  in  her  throat,  and  called  out  softly 
and  tremulously : 

"Cartouche !     I  am  here.     It  is  Fifi." 

Cartouche  dropped  his  tools  as  if  lightning- 
struck,  and  turned  toward  the  door — and  there  was 
Fifi's  smiling  face  peering  at  him. 

He  went  straight  to  the  door  and  opened  the 
upper  part  wide.  Fifi  saw  that  he  was  quite  pale, 
though  his  dark  and  expressive  eyes  were  burning, 
and  it  was  plain  to  her  that  he  was  consumed 
with  love  and  longing  for  her — but  he  was  almost 
cross  when  he  spoke. 

"What  brings  you  here,  Fifi?"  he  asked. 

"Everything  that  is  good.  First,  Louis  Bour- 
cet  has  jilted  me —  '  and  Fifi  capered  gleefully 
with  Toto  in  her  arms. 

"Is  that  anything  to  be  merry  about?"  inquired 
Cartouche,  sternly ;  but  Fifi  saw  that  his  strong 
brown  hand  trembled  as  it  lay  on  the  sill  of  the 
half-door. 

"Indeed  it  is — if  you  knew  Louis  Bourcet — 
and  he  did  it  because  of  my  nobility  of  soul." 

"Humph,"  said  Cartouche. 

"It  was  in  this  manner.  You  remember,  Car 
touche,  the  letter  you  wrote  me  three  days  ago,  in 
182 


which  you  advised  me  to  give  all  my  fortune  to  the 
fund  for  soldiers'  orphans?" 

"No,"  tartly  answered  Cartouche.  "I  never 
wrote  you  any  such  letter." 

"Listen,"  said  Fifi,  sweetly,  and  taking  from  her 
pocket  Cartouche's  letter,  she  read  aloud: 

"  'You  might  follow  the  Empress'  example,  and 
going  in  your  coach  and  six,  with  outriders,  to  the 
banking-house  of  Lafitte,  make  a  little  gift  of  a 
hundred  thousand  francs  to  the  fund  for  the  sol 
diers'  orphans.' 

"I  did  not  have  a  coach  and  six,  with  outriders, 
nor  even  a  hundred  thousand  francs  to  give,"  con 
tinued  Fifi,  putting  the  letter,  for  future  reference, 
in  her  pocket,  "as  I  had  spent  almost  ten  thousand 
on  clothes  and  monkeys  and  beds.  And  I  also 
saved  enough  to  buy  some  gowns  that  will  put 
Julie  Campionet's  nose  out  of  joint — but  I  had 
nearly  ninety  thousand  francs  to  give — and  I 
dressed  myself  up  as  an  old  woman — " 

"It  was  all  over  Paris  this  morning,"  cried  Car 
touche,  striking  his  forehead,  "I  read  it  myself  in 
the  newspaper!  Oh,  Fifi,  Fifi,  what  madness!" 
and  Cartouche  walked  wildly  about  the  room. 

"Madness,  do  you  call  it?"  replied  Fifi,  with 
183 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

spirit.  "This  comes  of  taking  your  advice.  I  had 
meant  to  spend  the  money  on  any  foolish  thing  I 
could  find  to  buy  that  was  worth  nothing,  and 
never  could  be  worth  anything;  and  when  your 
letter  came,  I  thought,  'here  is  a  sensible  way  to 
spend  it' — for  I  was  obliged  to  get  rid  of  it.  I 
never  had  a  happy  moment  since  I  had  the  money 
— and  I  must  say,  Cartouche,  I  think  you  behaved 
very  badly  to  me,  in  never  making  me  the  slightest 
apology  for  giving  me  the  ticket  that  drew  the 
money,  even  after  you  saw  it  made  me  miserable." 

Here  Fifi  assumed  an  offended  air,  to  which  Car 
touche,  walking  about  distractedly,  paid  no  atten 
tion  whatever,  only  crying  out  at  intervals: 

"Oh,  Fifi,  what  makes  you  behave  so !  What  will 
you  do  now?" 

Fifi  drew  off,  now  genuinely  contemptuous  and 
indignant. 

"Do?"  she  asked  in  a  tone  of  icy  contempt.  "Do 
you  think  that  an  actress  who  has  given  away  her 
whole  fortune  of  ninety  thousand  francs  and 
whose  grandfather  was  cousin  to  the  Pope  will 
want  an  engagement?" 

"But  the  newspapers  don't  know  who  gave  the 
money,"  said  Cartouche,  weakly.  "All  of  them 
184 


this  morning  said  that — and  the  Emperor  has  had 
published  in  the  Moniteur  an  official  request  that 
the  giver  will  make  herself  known,  so  that  she  may 
receive  the  thanks  in  person  of  himself  and  the 
Empress." 

"Better  and  better,"  cried  Fifi.  "Ten  francs  the 
week  more  will  Duvernet  have  to  pay  me  for  re 
ceiving  the  thanks  of  the  Emperor  and  Empress." 
And  then  with  an  access  of  hauteur  she  added: 
"You  must  know  very  little  of  the  theatrical  pro 
fession,  Cartouche,  if  you  suppose  I  intend  to  let 
the  newspapers  remain  in  ignorance  of  who  gave 
the  money.  Cartouche,  in  some  respects,  you  know 
about  as  little  concerning  our  profession  as  the 
next  one.  You  never  had  the  least  idea  of  the  value 
of  advertising." 

"Perhaps  not,"  replied  Cartouche,  stung  by  her 
tone,  "all  I  know  is,  the  value  of  hard  work.  And 
now,  I  suppose,  having  thrown  away  the  chance  of 
marrying  a  worthy  man  in  a  respectable  walk  of 
life,  you  will  proceed  to  marry  some  showy  crea 
ture  for  his  fine  clothes,  or  his  long  pedigree,  and 
then  be  miserable  forever  after." 

"Oh,  no,"  answered  Fifi,  sweetly.  "The  man  I 
intend  to  marry  is  not  at  all  showy.  He  is  as  plain 
185 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

as  the  kitchen  knife — and  as  for  fine  clothes  and  a 
long  pedigree,  ha!  ha!"  Fifi  pinched  Toto,  who 
seemed  to  laugh  with  her. 

Cartouche  remained  silent  a  whole  minute,  and 
then  said  calmly: 

"You  seem  to  have  fixed  upon  the  man." 

"Yes,  Toto  and  I  have  agreed  upon  a  suitable 
match  for  me.  Haven't  we,  Toto?" 

"Yap,  yap,  yap !"  barked  Toto. 

"Have  you  consulted  any  one  about  this  ?"  asked 
Cartouche  in  a  low  voice,  after  a  moment. 

"No  one  but  Toto,"  replied  Fifi,  pinching  Toto's 
ear. 

Cartouche  raised  his  arms  in  despair.  He  could 
only  groan: 

"Oh,  Fifi !    Oh,  Fifi !" 

"Don't  'Oh  Fifi'  me  any  more,  Cartouche,  after 
your  behavior  to  me,"  cried  Fifi  indignantly,  "and 
after  I  have  taken  your  advice  and  given  the  money 
away,  and  Louis  Bourcet  has  jilted  me — as  he  did 
as  soon  as  he  found  I  had  no  fortune — 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  he  would?" 

"I  didn't  need  anybody  to  tell  me  that.  Louis 
Bourcet  is  one  of  the  virtuous  who  make  one  sick 


186 


BACK    TO    THE    BLACK    CAT 

of  virtue.     But  at  least  after  you  made  him  jilt 
me—" 

"/  made  him  jilt  you!" 

"Certainly  you  did.  How  many  times  shall  I 
have  to  prove  to  you  that  it  was  you  who  put  it 
into  my  head  to  give  the  money  away?  And  now, 
I  want  to  ask,  having  caused  me  to  lose  the  chance 
of  marrying  the  most  correct  young  man  in  Paris, 
you — you — ought  to  marry  me  yourself !" 

Fifi  said  this  last  in  a  very  low,  sweet  voice,  her 
check  resting  upon  Toto's  sleek,  black  head,  her 
elbow  on  the  sill  of  the  half-door.  Cartouche 
walked  quite  to  the  other  end  of  the  room  and 
stood  with  his  back  to  Fifi,  and  said  not  one  word. 

Fifi  waited  a  minute  or  two,  Cartouche  main 
taining  his  strange  silence.  Then,  Fifi,  glancing 
down,  saw  on  a  little  table  within  the  room,  and 
close  to  the  half-door,  a  stick  of  chalk.  With  that 
she  wrote  in  large  white  letters  on  Toto's  black 
back: 

Cartouche,  I  love  you — 

and  tossed  Toto  into  the  room.    He  trotted  up  to 
Cartouche  and  lay  down  at  his  feet. 

Fifi  saw  Cartouche  give  a  great  start  when  he 
187 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

picked  up  the  dog,  and  Toto  uttered  a  little  plead 
ing  whine  which  was  quite  human  in  its  entreaty. 
Being  a  very  astute  dog,  he  knew  that  Cartouche 
was  not  treating  Fifi  right,  and  so,  pleaded  for  her. 

Fifi,  calmly  watching  Cartouche,  saw  that  he 
was  deeply  agitated,  and  she  was  not  in  the  least 
disturbed  by  it.  Presently,  dropping  Toto,  Car 
touche  strode  toward  the  half-door,  over  which  Fifi 
leaned. 

"Fifi,"  he  cried,  in  a  voice  of  agony,  "why  do 
you  torture  me  so?  You  know  that  I  love  you; 
and  you  know  that  I  ought  not  to  let  you  marry 
me — me,  almost  old  enough  to  be  your  father, 
poor,  obscure,  half  crippled,  Fifi.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  anguish  of  the  first  day  I  knew  that  I 
loved  you ;  it  was  the  day  I  found  you  acting  with 
the  players  in  the  street.  You  were  but  sixteen, 
and  I  had  loved  you  until  then  as  a  child,  as  a  little 
sister — and  suddenly,  I  was  overwhelmed  with  a 
lover's  love  for  you.  But  I  swore  to  myself,  on  my 
honor,  never  to  let  you  know  it — never  to  speak  a 
word  of  love  to  you — 

The  strong  man  trembled,  and  fell,  rather  than 
sat  upon  a  chair.    Fifi,  trembling  a  little  herself, 
but  still  smiling,  answered: 
188 


BACK    TO    THE    BLACK    CAT 

"And  you  have  kept  your  vow.  I  remember  that 
day  well — it  was  the  first  time  you  ever  spoke  an 
angry  word  to  me.  You  have  spoken  many  since, 
you  hard-hearted  Cartouche." 

To  this  Cartouche  made  no  answer  but  to  bury 
his  face  in  his  lean,  brown  hands,  that  bore  the 
marks  of  honest  toil.  Fifi  continued  briskly: 

"Cartouche,  open  this  lower  door.     It  is  fast." 

Cartouche  only  shook  his  head. 

Then  Fifi,  glancing  about,  saw  a  rickety  old 
chair  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  noiselessly 
fetching  it,  she  put  it  against  the  door,  stepped  up 
on  it;  a  second  step  on  the  little  table  by  the 
door,  and  a  third  step  on  the  floor,  brought  her  in 
the  room,  and  close  to  Cartouche.  She  laid  one 
hand  upon  his  shoulder — with  the  other  she  picked 
up  Toto — and  said,  in  a  wheedling  voice: 

"Cartouche,  shall  we  be  married  this  day  fort 
night?" 

Cartouche  made  a  faint  effort  to  push  her  away, 
but  the  passion  in  him  rose  up  lion-like,  and  mas 
tered  him.  He  seized  Fifi  in  his  strong  arms  and 
devoured  her  rosy  lips  with  kisses.  Then,  drop 
ping  her  as  suddenly,  he  cried  wildly : 


189 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"No,  no !  It  is  not  right,  Fifi — I  can  not  do  you 
so  cruel  a  wrong!" 

"You  are  almost  as  bad  as  Louis  Bourcet,"  re 
marked  Fifi,  straightening  her  curly  hair,  which 
was  all  over  her  face.  "Nevertheless,  I  shall  marry 
you  this  day  fortnight." 

For  answer,  Cartouche  vaulted  over  the  half- 
door,  in  spite  of  his  bad  leg,  and  was  gone  clatter 
ing  down  the  stairs.  Fifi  listened  as  the  sound  died 
away,  and  then  ran  to  the  window  to  see  him  go 
out  of  the  house  and  walk  off,  as  fast  as  he  could, 
down  the  street  of  the  Black  Cat. 

"Toto,"  said  Fifi  to  her  friend,  taking  him  up 
in  her  arms :  "We — you  and  I — arc  not  good 
enough  for  Cartouche,  but  all  the  same,  we  mean 
to  have  him.  I  can  not  live  without  him — that  is, 
I  will  not,  which  comes  to  the  same  thing — and  all 
the  other  men  I  have  ever  known  seem  small  and 
mean  alongside  of  Cartouche —  "  which  showed  that 
Fifi,  as  she  claimed,  really  had  some  sense. 

As  for  Cartouche,  he  walked  along  through  the 
narrow  streets  into  the  crowded  thoroughfare,  full 
of  shadows  even  then,  although  it  was  still  early  in 
the  soft,  spring  afternoon.  He  neither  knew  nor 


190 


BACK    TO    THE    BLACK    CAT 

cared  where  he  was  going  except  that  he  must  fly 
from  Fifi's  witching  eyes  and  tender  words  and  sweet 
caresses.  His  heart  was  pounding  so  that  he  could 
fancy  others  heard  it  besides  himself.  This  mar 
riage  was  clearly  impossible — it  was  not  to  be 
thought  of.  Fifi,  in  spite  of  her  rashness  and 
throwing  away  of  her  fortune,  was  no  fool.  She 
had  not,  as  Cartouche  feared,  assumed  a  style  of 
living  that  would  have  made  a  hundred  thousand 
francs  a  mere  bagatelle.  What  she  had  squan 
dered,  she  had  squandered  deliberately  for  a  pur 
pose  ;  what  she  had  given  had  been  given  to  a  good 
cause,  for  Fifi,  of  all  women,  best  knew  her  own 
mind.  And  to  think  that  she  should  have  taken  up 
this  strange  notion  to  marry  him — after  she  had 
seen  something  so  far  superior — so  Cartouche 
thought.  And  what  was  to  be  done?  If  neces 
sary,  he  would  leave  the  Imperial  Theater,  and  go 
far,  far  away ;  but  what  then  would  become  of  Fifi, 
alone  and  unprotected,  rash  and  young  and  beauti 
ful? 

Turning  these  things  over  tumultuously  in  his 
mind,  Cartouche  found  himself  in  front  of  the  shop 
where  he  had  bought  Fifi  the  red  cloak.  There 


191 


was  a  mirror  in  the  window,  and  Cartouche  stood 
and  looked  at  himself  in  it.  The  mirror  stiffened 
his  resolution. 

"No,"  he  said.  "Fifi  must  not  throw  herself 
away  on  such  a  looking  fellow.  I  love  her — I  love 
her  too  well  for  that." 

A  church  clock  chimed  six.  Cartouche  came  out 
of  his  troubled  day-dream  with  a  start — he  was 
already  due  at  the  theater.  He  ran  as  fast  as  his 
bad  leg  would  allow  him,  and  for  the  first  time  in 
the  eight  years  he  had  been  employed  there,  was 
late. 

Duvernet,  the  manager,  was  walking  the  floor  of 
his  dingy  little  office  and  tearing  his  hair.  He  was 
dressed  for  the  part  of  the  Cid  Campeador  in  the 
drama  of  the  evening.  Duvernet  never  made  the 
mistake  of  acting  a  trivial  part.  He  clattered 
about  in  a  full  suit  of  tin  armor,  but  had  inadvert 
ently  clapped  his  hat  on  his  head.  Although  there 
was  but  little  time  to  spare,  the  manager  was 
obliged  to  pour  out  his  woes  to  Cartouche. 

"Julie  Campionet  saw  Fifi  return,  with  all  her 

boxes,"  he  groaned;  "and — well,  you  know  Julie 

Campionet — I  have  had  the  devil's  own  time  the 

whole  afternoon.     Then  Fifi  marched  herself  over 

192 


BACK    TO    THE    BLACK    CAT 

here — the  minx.  I  called  her  Fifi,  at  first.  She 
drew  herself  up  like  an  offended  empress  and  said, 
'Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti,  if  you  please.'  She 
then  informed  me,  with  an  air  of  grand  condescen 
sion  that  she  might  return  here  as  leading  lady,  and 
told  me,  quite  negligently,  that  she  was  the  person 
who  gave  the  ninety  thousand  francs  to  the  sol 
diers'  orphans'  fund.  You  would  have  thought  she 
was  in  the  habit  of  giving  ninety  thousand  francs 
to  charity  every  morning  before  breakfast.  She 
swore  she  did  not  intend  to  acknowledge  it  until 
she  had  got  a  place  as  leading  lady  at  a  theater  that 
suited  her;  likewise  that  she  proposed  to  be  billed 
as  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti,  cousin  to  the  Holy 
Father,  and  to  have  the  story  of  her  relationship  to 
the  Pope  published  in  every  newspaper  in  Paris, 
and  demanded  fifty  francs  the  week.  The  advertis 
ing  alone  is  worth  a  hundred  francs  the  week ;  but 
you  know,  Cartouche,  no  woman  on  earth  could 
stand  a  hundred  francs  the  week  and  keep  sane. 
Then,  she  tells  me  that  she  has  a  magnificent  ward 
robe — she  wore  that  brooch  in  here,  which  I  have 
never  been  able  to  satisfy  myself  is  real  or  not — 
and  took  such  a  high  tone  altogether  that  I  began 
to  ask  myself  if  I  were  the  manager  of  this  theater 
193 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

or  was  Fifi.  And  then  the  last  information  she 
gave  me  was  that  she  was  to  marry  you  this  day 
fortnight — 

"Ah!"  cried  Cartouche,  gloomily. 

"And  said  if  I  didn't  give  her  back  her  old  place 
as  leading  lady  that  I  would  have  to  part  with  you. 
I  said  something  about  Julie  Campionet,  and  be 
ing  my  wife,  and  so  on,  and  then  Fifi  flew  into  a 
royal  rage,  saying  she  would  settle  with  Julie 
Campionet  herself.  Then  Julie  came  rushing  into 
the  room,  and  she  and  Fifi  had  it  out  in  great  style. 
You  never  heard  such  a  noise  in  your  life — it  was 
like  killing  pigs,  and  Julie  fell  in  my  arms  and 
screamed  to  me  to  protect  her,  and  Fifi  started  that 
infernal  dog  of  hers  to  barking,  and  there  was  a 
devil  of  a  row,  and  how  it  ended  I  don't  know,  ex 
cept  that  both  of  them  are  vowing  vengeance  on 
me.  But  one  thing  is  sure — I  can't  let  a  chance  go 
of  securing  the  Pope's  cousin,  who  won  the  first 
prize  in  the  lottery  and  gave  away  ninety  thou 
sand  francs.  And  then — what  Julie — 

The  manager  groaned  and  buried  his  head  in  his 
hands.  Like  the  unfortunate  Louis  Bourcet,  all 
he  could  make  out  was,  that  whatever  he  did  would 
be  highly  imprudent. 

194 


BACK    TO    THE    BLACK    CAT 

It  was  already  late,  and  there  was  not  another 
moment  to  lose,  so  Cartouche  had  to  run  away  and 
leave  the  manager  to  his  misery. 

The  performance  was  hardly  up  to  the  mark 
that  night.  Sensational  talcs  of  Fifi's  return  had 
flown  like  wildfire  about  the  theater.  She  was  com 
monly  reported  to  have  come  back  in  a  coach  and 
pair,  with  a  van  full  of  huge  boxes,  all  crammed 
with  the  most  superb  costumes.  Such  stories  were 
naturally  disquieting  to  Julie  Campionet,  and  to 
gether  with  her  scene  in  the  afternoon,  impaired  her 
performance  visibly. 

As  for  Fifi,  she  was  at  that  moment  established 
in  her  old  room,  which  luckily  was  vacant,  and  was 
cooking  a  pair  of  pork  chops  over  a  charcoal  stove 
— and  was  perfectly  happy.  So  was  Toto,  who 
barked  vociferously,  and  had  to  be  held  in  Fifi's 
arms,  to  keep  his  paws  off  the  red-hot  stove.  There 
was  a  bottle  of  wine,  some  sausages,  and  onions  and 
cheese,  and  a  box  of  highly  colored  bonbons,  for 
which  Fifi  had  rashly  expended  three  francs.  But 
it  is  not  every  day,  thought  Fifi,  that  one  comes 
home  to  one's  best  beloved — and  so  she  made  a  little 
feast  for  Cartouche  and  herself. 

Cartouche  was  late  that  night,  and  trying  to 
195 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

avoid  Fifi,  he  mounted  softly  to  his  garret.  As  he 
approached  Fifi's  door,  he  saw  the  light  through  a 
chink.  Fifi  heard  his  step,  quiet  as  it  was,  and 
opening  the  door  wide,  cried  out  gaily : 

"Here  is  supper  ready  for  you,  Cartouche,  and 
Toto  and  I  waiting  for  you." 

Cartouche  could  not  resist.  He  had  meant  to 
— but  after  all,  he  was  but  human — and  Fifi  was  so 
sweet — so  sweet  to  him.  He  came  in,  therefore, 
awkwardly  enough,  and  feeling  like  a  villain  the 
while,  he  sat  down  at  the  rickety  little  table,  on 
which  Fifi  had  spread  a  feast,  seasoned  with  love. 

"Cartouche,"  she  said  presently,  when  they  were 
eating  and  drinking,  "you  must  get  a  holiday  for 
this  day  fortnight." 

"What  for?"  asked  Cartouche,  gnawing  his 
chop — Fifi  cooked  chops  beautifully. 

"Because  that  is  the  day  we  are  to  be  married," 
briskly  responded  Fifi. 

Cartouche  put  down  his  chop. 

"Fifi,"  he  said.  "You  will  break  my  heart.  Why 
will  you  persist  in  throwing  yourself  away  on  me?" 

"Dear  me!"  cried  Fifi  to  Toto,  "how  very  silly 
Cartouche  is  to-night!     And  what  a  horrid  fiance 
he  makes — worse  than  Louis  Bourcet." 
196 


BACK    TO    THE    BLACK    CAT 

Then  Fifi  told  him  about  some  of  the  tricks  she 
had  played  on  poor  Louis,  and  Cartouche  was 
obliged  to  laugh. 

"At  least,  Fifi,"  he  said,  "you  shan't  marry  me, 
until  you  have  consulted  his  Holiness." 

"And  his  Majesty,"  replied  Fifi  gravely.  "Who 
would  think,  to  see  us  supping  on  pork  chops  and 
onions,  that  our  marriage  concerned  such  very 
great  people !" 

Cartouche  went  to  his  garret  presently,  still 
drowned  in  perplexities,  but  with  a  wild  feeling  of 
rapture  that  seemed  to  make  a  new  heaven  and  a 
new  earth  for  him. 

Fifi,  next  morning,  proceeded  to  lay  out  her 
plans.  She  did  not  go  near  the  theater  until  the 
afternoon.  Then  she  put  on  her  yellow  and  pur 
ple  brocade,  her  large  red  and  green  satin  cloak, 
her  huge  hat  and  feathers  and  reinforced  with  the 
alleged  diamond  brooch,  and  sending  out  for  a  cab, 
ordered  it  to  carry  her  and  her  magnificence  across 
the  street  to  the  manager's  private  office. 

Duvernet,  thinking  Fifi  had  come  to  her  senses, 
and  would  ask,  instead  of  demanding,  her  place 
back,  received  her  coolly.  Fifi  was  charmingly 
affable. 

197 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"I  only  called  to  ask,  Monsieur,"  she  said,  "if 
you  could  tell  me  how  to  catch  the  diligence  which 
goes  out  to  Fontainebleau.  I  wish  to  go  out  to 
see  his  Holiness,  who,  as  you  know,  is  my  relative, 
and  as  such,  I  desire  his  formal  consent  to  my 
marriage  to  Cartouche." 

Fifi  was  careful  not  to  say  that  she  was  the 
Pope's  relative ;  the  Pope  was  her  relative. 

Duvernet,  somewhat  disconcerted  by  Fifi's  superb 
air,  replied  that  the  diligence  passed  the  corner, 
two  streets  below,  at  nine  in  the  morning,  and  one 
in  the  afternoon. 

"Thank  you,"  responded  Fifi.  "I  shall  go  out, 
to-morrow,  at  one  o'clock.  I  could  not  think  of 
getting  up  at  the  unearthly  hour  necessary  to  take 
the  morning  diligence.  And  can  you  tell  me,  Mon 
sieur,  about  the  omnibus  that  passes  the  Tuileries? 
The  Emperor  has  had  a  request  printed  in  the  Mon- 
iteur,  asking  that  the  lady  who  made  the  gift  of 
ninety  thousand  francs  to  the  soldiers'  orphans 
should  declare  herself — and  I  have  no  objection  to 
going  in  the  omnibus  as  far  as  the  gates  of  the 
Tuileries.  Then,  I  shall  get  a  carriage." 

Duvernet  was  so  thunderstruck  at  Fifi's  gran 
deur,  that  he  mumbled  something  quite  unintelligi- 
198 


BACK    TO    THE    BLACK    CAT 

ble  about  the  omnibus.  Fifi,  however,  was  per 
fectly  well  acquainted  with  the  ways  both  of  the 
omnibus  and  diligence,  and  only  inquired  about 
them  to  impress  upon  Duvernet  the  immense  gulf 
between  the  Fifi  of  yesterday  and  the  Mademoiselle 
Chiaramonti  of  to-day.  She  finally  rose  and  sailed 
off,  but  returned  to  ask  the  amazed  and  disgusted 
Duvernct  to  get  her  a  cab  to  take  her  across  the 
street. 

"I  can  walk,  Monsieur,"  she  said  condescend 
ingly,  "except  that  I  am  afraid  of  ruining  my 
clothes.  I  carry  on  my  back  nearly  four  thousand 
francs'  worth  of  clothes." 

Duvernet,  still  staggered  by  her  splendors,  had 
to  search  the  neighborhood  for  a  cab — cabs  were 
not  much  in  demand  in  that  quarter.  But  at  last 
he  found  one,  which  transported  Fifi  and  her 
grandeur  across  the  way.  It  was  clearly  impossible 
that  so  much  elegance  should  go  on  foot. 

That  night,  again,  she  made  a  little  supper  for 
Cartouche,  and  Cartouche,  feeling  himself  a  guilty 
wretch,  again  went  in  and  ate  it,  and  basked  in  the 
sunlight  of  Fifi's  eyes. 


199 


CHAPTER  X 

THE    POPE    WINS 

Now,  Fifi  really  intended  to  go  out  to  Fontaine- 
bleau  the  next  day  to  see  the  Holy  Father,  for, 
although  she  cared  little  for  the  opinion  of  the 
world  in  general,  she  had  been  deeply  impressed 
by  the  benignant  old  man,  and  she  secretly 
yearned  for  his  approval.  And  besides,  she  had 
an  instinctive  feeling  that  the  Holy  Father  would 
understand  better  than  any  one  else  in  the  world 
why  she  wished  to  marry  Cartouche.  That  tender, 
serene  soul  of  the  old  man,  who  cherished  the  affec 
tions  of  his  youth  and  who  had  sounded  the  depths 
and  measured  the  heights  of  human  grandeur  and 
yet  esteemed  love  the  greatest  thing  in  the  world, 
would  understand  a  simple,  loving  heart  like  Fifi's. 
It  had  been  so  easy  to  tell  him  all  about  Cartouche 
and  herself — and  he  had  comprehended  it  so  read 
ily;  just  the  same,  thought  Fifi,  as  if  he  himself 
had  lived  and  worked  and  struggled  as  she  and 
Cartouche  had  lived  and  worked  and  struggled. 
200 


THE  POPE  WINS 

Fifi  knew,  in  her  own  way,  that  there  is  a  kinship 
among  all  honest  souls— and  that  thus  the  Holy 
Father  was  near  of  kin  to  Cartouche. 

Fifi  did  not  mention  this  proposed  expedition  to 
Cartouche,  because,  in  her  lexicon,  it  was  always 
easier  to  justify  a  thing  after  it  is  done  than  before. 

So,  when  on  the  morning  after  her  return,  the 
diligence  rumbled  past  the  street  below  that  of  the 
Black  Cat,  Fifi  was  inside  the  diligence — and,  on 
the  outside,  quite  unknown  to  her,  was  Duvernet. 

The  manager,  it  may  be  imagined,  had  not  had 
a  very  easy  time  of  it,  either  as  a  manager  or  a 
husband  for  the  last  twenty-four  hours.  Julie 
Campionet  had  large  lung  power,  and  had  used  it 
cruelly  on  him.  Nevertheless,  the  idea  of  securing 
Fifi  with  all  her  additional  values  for  the  Imperial 
Theater  was  quite  irresistible  to  Duvernet;  and  the 
thought  that  another  manager,  more  enterprising 
than  he,  might  get  her  for  ten  francs  more  the 
week,  was  intolerable  to  him.  He  determined  to 
make  a  gigantic  effort  for  Fifi's  services,  and  it 
would  be  extremely  desirable  to  him  to  have  this 
crucial  interview  as  far  away  from  the  Imperial 
Theater  as  possible. 

Therefore,  Duvernet  was  on  the  lookout  when 
201 


the  diligence  jolted  past,  and  when  he  saw  a  demure 
figure  in  black,  with  a  veil  over  her  face,  get  inside 
the  diligence,  he  recognized  Fifi,  and  jumped  up 
on  the  outside. 

Fifi,  sitting  within,  had  no  notion  that  Duvernet 
was  on  the  same  vehicle.  She  kept  her  veil  down 
and  behaved  with  the  greatest  propriety.  She 
knew  better  than  to  wear  any  of  her  ridiculous 
finery  in  the  presence  of  the  Holy  Father,  and  as 
she  had  got  rid  of  the  brown  gown  with  the  green 
spots,  she  wore  a  plain  black  gown  and  mantle 
which  became  her  well,  and  she  scarcely  seemed 
like  the  same  creature  who  had  worn  the  yellow 
brocade  robe  and  the  striped  satin  cloak. 

The  diligence  rumbled  along,  through  the  pleas 
ant  spring  afternoon,  upon  the  sunny  road  to 
Fontainebleau,  and  reached  it  in  a  couple  of  hours. 

When  Fifi  dismounted,  at  the  street  leading  to 
the  palace,  what  was  her  surprise  to  find  that 
Duvernet  dismounted  too ! 

"I  had  business  at  Fontainebleau,  and  so  was 
fortunate  to  find  myself  on  the  top  of  the  diligence, 
while  you  were  inside,"  was  Duvernet's  ready  ex 
planation  of  his  presence. 

Fifi  was  at  heart  glad  of  his  protection,  and 
202 


THE    POPE    WINS 

hoped    he    would    return    to    Paris    with    her,    but 
would  by  no  means  admit  so  much  to  him. 

"I,"  said  Fifi,  with  dignity,  "also  have  business 
at  Fontainebleau — with  the  Holy  Father.  You 
may  walk  with  me  to  the  palace." 

"Thank  you,  Mademoiselle,"  answered  Duvcr- 
nct,  bowing ;  and  Fifi  could  not  tell  whether  he 
was  laughing  at  her  or  not. 

As  they  walked  toward  the  vast  old  palace,  gray 
and  peaceful  in  the  golden  sun  of  springtime,  Du- 
vcrnet  said: 

"Well,  Fi— " 

"What?"  asked  Fifi  coldly. 

"Mademoiselle,  I  should  say.  Since  we  find  our 
selves  together,  we  may  as  well  resume  our  business 
conversation  of  yesterday  afternoon.  If  you  will 
take  fifty  francs  the  week,  your  old  place  at  the 
Imperial  Theater  is  open  to  you." 

"And  that  minx,  Julie  Campionet — oh,  I  beg 
your  pardon." 

"Don't  mention  it,"  gloomily  replied  Julie  Cam- 
pionet's  husband.  "She  has  told  me  twenty  times 
since  yesterday  that  she  means  to  get  a  divorce, 
just  like  the  others.  If  she  doesn't,  I  can,  perhaps, 
get  her  to  take  her  old  parts  by  giving  her  an 
203 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

additional  five  francs  the  week — for  I  assure  you, 
when  it  comes  to  a  question  of  salary,  she  is  not 
Madame  Duvernet,  but  Julie  Campionct." 

"It  would  be  against  my  conscience,  Monsieur, 
to  interfere  with  your  domestic  peace — "  said  Fifi 
demurely,  and  that  time  it  was  Duvernet  who  didn't 
know  whether  or  not  Fifi  was  laughing  at  him. 

"Mademoiselle,"  replied  he,  with  his  loftiest  air, 
"do  you  suppose  I  would  let  my  domestic  peace 
stand  before  Art  ?  No.  A  thousand  times  no !  Art 
is  always  first  with  me,  and  last.  And  besides,  if 
Julie  Campionet  should  get  a  divorce  from, me — 
well,  I  have  never  found  any  trouble  yet  in  getting 
married.  All  the  trouble  came  afterward." 

"Fifty  francs,"  mused  Fifi ;  "and  if  I  allow  you 
to  bill  me  as  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti,  and  the 
granddaughter  of  the  Pope's  cousin,  that  would  be 
worth  at  least  twenty-five  francs  the  week  more. 
Seventy-five  francs  the  week." 

"Good  heavens,  no!"  shouted  Duvernet.  "The 
Holy  Father  himself  wouldn't  be  worth  seventy- 
five  francs  at  the  Imperial  Theater !  Sixty  francs, 
at  the  outside,  and  Julie  Campionet  to  think  it  is 
fifty." 


204 


THE    POPE    WINS 

"I  had  better  wait  until  I  am  married  to  Car 
touche,"  replied  Fifi  innocently. 

But  waiting  was  just  what  the  manager  did  not 
want.  So,  still  urging  her  to  take  sixty  francs, 
they  reached  the  palace. 

Fifi  had  a  little  note  prepared  and  gave  it,  to 
gether  with  a  pink  gilt-bordered  card,  inscribed 
"Mademoiselle  Josephine  Chiaramonti,"  to  the  por 
ter  at  the  door.  The  porter  evidently  regarded 
Fifi,  and  her  note  and  card  included,  with  the  ut 
most  disfavor,  but,  like  most  underlings,  he  was 
well  acquainted  with  his  master's  private  affairs, 
and  knew  in  a  minute  who  Fifi  was,  and  so,  grudg 
ingly  went  off  with  her  letter  and  card. 

Fifi  and  Duvernet  kept  up  their  argument  in  the 
great,  gloomy  anteroom  into  which  they  were  ush 
ered.  Fifi  was  saying: 

"And  if  I  allow  you  to  bill  me  as  his  Holiness' 
cousin,  and  you  give  me  seventy-five  francs — 

"Sixty,  Mademoiselle." 

"Seventy-five  francs,  will  you  promise  always  to 
take  my  part  when  I  quarrel  with  Julie  Cam- 
pionet  ?" 

"Good  God !  What  a  proposition !  I  am  married 
to  Julie  Campionet !  " 

205 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"Have  you  really  and  actually  straightened  out 
your  divorces  from  your  other  three  wives?"  asked 
Fifi  maliciously. 

"N-n-not  exactly.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  Fi — I 
mean,  Mademoiselle — I  get  those  divorce  suits  and 
those  leading  ladies  so  mixed  up  in  my  head,  that 
I  am  not  quite  sure  about  anything  concerning 
them.  But  if  you  doubt  that  I  am  married  to  Julie 
Campionet,  just  listen  to  her  when  she  is  giving 
me  a  wigging,  and  you  will  be  convinced." 

"Of  course,"  continued  Fifi,  dismissing  Duvernet 
and  Julie  Campionet  and  their  matrimonial  com 
plications  with  a  wave  of  the  hand,  "it  is  not  really 
necessary  for  me  to  act  at  all.  I  have  a  fortune  in 
my  diamond  brooch,  any  time  I  choose  to  sell  it. 
I  gave  away  ninety  thousand  francs — but  in  my 
brooch  I  hold  on  to  enough  to  keep  the  wolf  from 
the  door."  Then,  a  dazzling  coup  coming  into  her 
head,  she  remarked  casually,  "I  hope  Cartouche  is 
not  marrying  me  for  my  diamond  brooch." 

Duvernet,  a  good  deal  exasperated  by  Fifi's  airs, 
replied,  with  a  grin : 

"Cartouche  tells  me  he  isn't  going  to  marry  you 
at  all." 

"We  will  see  about  that,"  said  Fifi,  using  the 
206 


THE    POPE    WINS 

same  enigmatic  words  Cartouche  had  used,  when 
the  matrimonial  proposition  was  first  offered  for 
his  consideration. 

After  a  long  wait  the  porter  returned,  accom 
panied  by  the  same  sour-looking  ecclesiastic  whom 
Fifi  had  met  on  her  previous  visit;  and  he  escorted 
her  to  the  door  of  the  Pope's  chamber. 

The  door  was  opened  for  her,  and  Fifi  found 
herself  once  more  in  the  presence  of  the  Pope.  She 
ran  forward  and  kissed  his  hand,  and  the  Holy 
Father  patted  her  hand  kindly. 

"Well,  my  child,"  he  said,  "I  hear  strange  things 
of  you.  The  Bourcets  conveyed  to  me  early 
this  morning  that  you  have  left  their  house,  given 
up  the  marriage  with  the  respectable  young  advo 
cate,  Louis  Bourcet,  and  bestowed  all  your  fortune 
on  charity.  I  have  been  anxious  about  you." 

"Pray  don't  be  so  any  more,  Holy  Father,"  said 
Fifi,  smiling  brightly  and  seating  herself  on  a 
little  chair  the  Holy  Father  motioned  her  to  take. 
"I  never  was  so  happy  in  my  life  as  I  am  now.  I 
hated  the  idea  of  marrying  Louis  Bourcet." 

"Then  you  should  not  have  agreed  to  marry 
him." 

"Oh,  Holy  Father,  you  can't  imagine  how  it 
207 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

dazes  one  to  be  suddenly  overwhelmed  with  riches, 
to  be  taken  away  from  all  one  knows  and  loves,  to 
be  compelled  to  be  idle  when  one  would  work — to 
be,  in  short,  transplanted  to  another  world.  At 
first,  I  would  have  agreed  to  anything." 

"I  understand.     Now,  open  your  heart  to  me  as 
to  your  father." 

"I  was  very  wretched  after  I  got  the  money.  I 
was  idle,  I  was  unhappy,  I  was  unloved — and  I  had 
been  used  to  being  busy,  to  being  happy,  to  being 
loved.  And  what  gave  me  the  courage  to  rebel  was, 
that  I  found  out  I  loved  Cartouche.  Holy  Father, 
he  is  my  only  friend —  '  An  expression  in  the  Holy 
Father's  eyes  made  Fifi  quickly  correct  herself. 
"Was  my  only  friend.  And  when  I  thought  of 
being  married,  I  could  not  imagine  life  without 
Cartouche.  So,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  marry  him. 
But  Cartouche  said  he  was  neither  young  nor  rich, 
nor  handsome,  and  with  my  youth  and  newly- 
acquired  fortune,  I  ought  to  marry  above  him.  I 
do  not  claim  that  Cartouche  is  what  is  called — a — 
Fifi  hesitated,  the  term  "brilliant  marriage"  not 
being  known  in  the  street  of  the  Black  Cat.  But 
the  Holy  Father  suggested  it  with  a  smile — 

"A  brilliant  marriage?" 
208 


THE    POPE    WINS 

"Yes,  Holy  Father,  that  is  what  I  mean.  But  he 
is  the  best  of  men;  I  shiver  when  I  think  what 
would  have  become  of  me  without  Cartouche.  And 
he  is  as  brave  as  a  lion — he  was  the  first  man  across 
at  the  bridge  of  Lodi — and  the  Emperor  was  the 
second.  And  he  serves  Duvernet,  the  manager,  just 
as  faithfully  as  he  served  his  country.  Cartouche 
has  charge  of  all  sorts  of  things  at  the  theater,  and 
he  would  die  rather  than  let  any  one  swindle  the 
manager." 

"I  should  like  to  have  him  for  my  majordomo," 
said  the  Holy  Father. 

"He  is  not  much  of  an  actor  though,  to  say 
nothing  of  his  stiff  leg.  Cartouche  is  an  angel, 
Holy  Father,  but  he  can  not  act.  So  he  does  not 
get  much  salary — only  twenty-five  francs  the  week. 
However,  I  know  two  things:  that  Cartouche  is 
the  best  of  men,  and  that  I  love  him  with  all  my 
heart.  Holy  Father,  was  not  that  reason  enough 
for  not  marrying  Louis  Bourcet?" 

"Quite  reason  enough,"  softly  answered  the 
Holy  Father. 

"After  all,  though,  it  was  Louis  Bourcet  who 
got  rid  of  me.     It  was  like  this,  Holy  Father.     I 
knew  as  long  as  I  had  a  hundred  thousand  francs 
209 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

that  Louis  Bourcet  would  marry  me,  no  matter  how 
outlandish  my  behavior  was;  and  I  also  knew,  as 
long  as  I  had  a  hundred  thousand  francs,  Cartouche 
never  would  marry  me.  And  as  I  wanted  to  be 
happy,  I  concluded  to  get  rid  of  my  hundred  thou 
sand  francs,  and  that  horrid,  pious,  correct,  stupid, 
pompous  Louis  Bourcet  at  the  same  time — 

And  then  Fifi  burst  into  the  whole  story  of  her 
adventures,  beginning  with  her  putting  the  box  of 
old  shoes  in  the  bank,  and  sewing  her  money  up  in 
the  mattress.  Through  it  all  the  Holy  Father  sat 
with  his  hand  to  his  lips  and  coughed  occasion- 
ally- 

Fifi  knew  how  to  tell  her  story,  and  gave  very 
graphic  pictures  of  her  life  and  adventures  in 
the  Rue  de  1'Echelle.  She  told  it  all,  including 
her  return  to  the  street  of  the  Black  Cat  in  the 
same  van  with  her  boxes,  her  proposal  of  marriage 
to  Cartouche  and  Toto's  share  in  the  proceedings. 
The  Holy  Father  listened  attentively,  and  after  an 
extra  spell  of  coughing  at  the  end,  inquired 
gravely : 

"And  what  did  Cartouche  say  to  your  proposi 
tion  to  marry  him?" 

"Holy  Father,  he  behaved  horridly,  and  has  not 
210 


THE    POPE    WINS 

yet  agreed,  although  the  poor  fellow  is  eating  his 
heart  out  for  me.  He  says  still,  I  am  far  above 
him — for,  you  see,  Holy  Father,  as  soon  as  I  have 
it  published  that  I  am  the  giver  of  ninety  thousand 
francs  to  the  orphans'  fund,  all  Paris  will  flock  to 
see  me  act — and  then — I  shall  be  billed  as  Made 
moiselle  Chiaramonti — cousin  of  the  Holy  Father, 
the  Pope.  That  alone  is  worth  twenty-five  francs 
the  week  extra." 

A  crash  resounded.  The  Holy  Father's  foot 
stool  had  tumbled  over  noisily.  The  Holy  Father 
himself  was  staring  in  consternation  at  Fifi. 

"On  the  bills,  did  you  say?" 

"Yes,  Holy  Father.  On  the  big  red  and  blue 
posters  all  over  the  quarter  of  Paris." 

"It  must  not  be,"  said  the  Holy  Father,  with  a 
quiet  firmness  that  impressed  Fifi  very  much. 
"How  much  did  you  say  it  was  worth?" 

"I  say  twenty-five  francs.  Duvernet,  the  man 
ager,  says  only  fifteen." 

"Where  is  this  Duvernet?" 

"Waiting  for  me  in  the  anteroom  below,  Holy 
Father.  He  came  out  to  Fontainebleau  to  try  to 
get  me  to  make  the  arrangement  at  once." 

The  Pope  touched  a  bell  at  hand,  and  a  servant 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

appeared,  who  was  directed  to  bring  Manager  Du- 
vernet  to  him  at  once.  Then,  turning  to  Fifi,  he 
said: 

"Monsieur  Duvernet  must  give  up  all  ideas  of 
this  outrageous  playbill — and  in  consideration,  I 
will  secure  to  you  an  annuity  of  twenty-five  francs 
the  week  as  long  as  you  live." 

"How  good  it  is  of  you,  Holy  Father!"  cried 
Fifi.  Then  she  added  dolefully :  "But  I  am  afraid 
if  Cartouche  knows  I  am  to  be  as  rich  as  that,  I 
shall  have  more  trouble  than  ever  getting  him  to 
marry  me.  What  shall  I  do,  Holy  Father,  about 
telling  him?" 

The  Pope  reflected  a  moment  or  two. 

"It  is  a  difficult  situation,  but  it  must  be  man 
aged,"  he  answered. 

Then  Fifi,  eager  for  the  Holy  Father's  approval 
of  Cartouche,  told  many  stories  of  his  goodness  to 
her  in  her  childish  days — and  presently  Duvernet 
was  announced. 

Duvernet  was  an  earnest  worshiper  of  titles  and 
power,  but  not  to  the  extent  of  forgetting  his  own 
advantage ;  and,  although  on  greeting  the  Pope  he 
knelt  reverently,  he  rose  up  with  the  fixed  determi 
nation  not  to  do  anything  against  the  interests  of 


THE    POPE    WINS 

the  Imperial  Theater,  or  its  manager,  not  if  the 
Pope  and  all  the  College  of  Cardinals  united  in 
asking  him. 

"Monsieur,"  said  the  Holy  Father,  gently,  but 
with  authority :  "This  young  relative  of  mine  tells 
me  that  her  salary  is  to  be  increased  fifteen  francs 
the  week  at  your  theater  if  her  name  and  relation 
ship  to  me  snail  be  exploited.  I  offer  her  twenty- 
five  francs  the  week  if  she  will  forego  this.  It  does 
not  appear  to  me  to  be  proper  that  such  exploita 
tion  should  take  place." 

Duvernet  bowed  to  the  ground. 

"Holy  Father,"  said  he,  with  deepest  humility, 
"it  rests  with  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti."  And  he 
whispered  to  Fifi  behind  his  hand,  "Thirty  francs." 

"Thirty  francs!"  cried  Fifi  indignantly,  "only 
just  now  you  were  telling  me  that  it  was  not  even 
worth  twenty-five  francs!" 

The  Holy  Father's  voice  was  heard — gentle  as 
ever — 

"Thirty-five  francs." 

Duvernet,  being  found  out,  and  seeing  that  he 
had  the  Supreme  Pontiff  on  the  other  side  of  the 
market,  concluded  it  was  no  time  for  diffidence,  so 

he  cried  out  boldly : 

213 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"Thirty-eight  francs." 

There  was  a  pause.  Fifi  looked  toward  the  Holy 
Father. 

"Forty  francs,"  said  the  Holy  Father. 

Duvernet,  with  the  air  and  manner  of  a  Roman 
senator  acknowledging  defeat,  bowed  superbly  and 
said: 

"Your  Holiness  wins,"  and  backed  toward  the 
door. 

Fifi  turned  to  the  Pope,  and  said  with  shining 
eyes: 

"Holy  Father,  I  thank  you  more  than  I  can  ever, 
ever  say — I  promise  never  to  do  anything  to  dis 
honor  the  name  I  bear.  And  Duvernet,"  she  added, 
turning  to  where  the  manager  stood  with  folded 
arms  and  the  expression  of  a  martyr:  "Recollect, 
even  if  it  is  not  put  on  the  bill  that  I  am  the  grand 
daughter  of  the  Holy  Father's  cousin,  that  I  am 
still  valuable.  Did  I  not  win  the  first  prize  in  the 
lottery?  And  did  I  not  give  ninety  thousand 
francs  to  the  soldiers'  orphans?  And  shan't  I  be 
thanked  in  person  by  the  Emperor  and  Empress? 
Match  me  that  if  you  can.  And  besides,  have  I 
not  the  finest  diamond  brooch  in  Paris?" 

"If  it  is   diamond,"   said  Duvernet  under  his 


THE    POPE    WINS 

breath,  but  not  so  low  that  the  Holy  Father  did 
not  hear  him.  However,  without  noticing  this, 
the  Pope  asked  of  him: 

"Monsieur,  will  you  kindly  give  me  your  opinion 
of  Monsieur  Cartouche,  whom  my  young  relative 
wishes  to  marry?" 

Duvernet  paused  a  minute,  trying  to  find  words 
to  express  what  he  thought  of  Cartouche,  but  in 
the  end  could  only  say : 

"Your  Holiness,  Cartouche  is — well,  I  could  not 
conduct  the  Imperial  Theater  without  Cartouche. 
And  he  is  the  most  honest  and  the  most  industrious 
man  I  ever  saw  in  my  life." 

"Thank  you,  Monsieur.  Good  afternoon,"  said 
the  Pope,  and  Duvernet  vanished. 

"My  child,"  said  the  Holy  Father,  after  a  little 
pause :  "What  is  this  about  your  having  the  finest 
diamond  brooch  in  Paris?"  As  he  spoke,  the  Holy 
Father's  face  grew  anxious.  The  possession  of  fine 
diamonds  by  a  girl  of  Fifi's  condition  was  a  little 
disquieting  to  him. 

"It  is  only  paste,  Holy  Father,"  replied  Fifi, 

whipping  the  brooch  out  of  her  pocket.     "I  always 

carry  it  with  me  to  make  believe  it  is  diamond,  but 

it  is  no  more  diamond  than  my  shoe.     Duvernet 

215 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

thinks  it  is  diamond,  and  I  encouraged  him  to 
think  so,  because  I  found  that  it  always  overawed 
him.  Whenever  he  grew  presumptuous,  all  I  had 
to  do  was  to  put  on  this  great  dazzling  brooch 
and  a  very  grand  air,  and  it  brought  him  down  at 
once." 

"My  child,"  said  the  Holy  Father — and  stopped. 

"I  know  what  you  would  say,  Holy  Father — I 
am  deceiving  Duvernet — but  that  is  what  is  called 
in  the  world — diplomacy." 

With  that  she  handed  the  brooch  to  the  Holy 
Father.  It  was  a  brazen  imposture,  and  the  Pope, 
who  knew  something  about  gems,  could  but  smile  at 
the  size  and  impudence  of  the  alleged  stones. 

Then  Fifi  said  timidly : 

"Holy  Father,  how  about  Cartouche?  I  so 
much  want  to  marry  Cartouche !" 

"Then,"  said  the  Pope  calmly,  "you  can  not  do 
better  than  marry  Cartouche,  for  I  am  sure  he  is 
an  honest  fellow,  and  loves  you,  and  you  must  bring 
him  out  to  see  me." 

"Oh,  Holy  Father,"  cried  Fifi  joyfully,  "when  I 

bring  Cartouche  out  to  see  you,  you  will  see  what  a 

-eery  honest,  kind  man  he  is!     But  you  must  not 

expect  to  see  a  fire  gentleman.     My  Cartouche  has 

216 


THE    POPE    WINS 

the  heart  and  the  manners  of  a  gentleman,  but  he 
has  not  the  clothes  of  a  gentleman."  And  to  this, 
the  Pope  replied,  smiling: 

"The  time  has  been  when  I  was  a  poor  parish 
priest,  that  I  had  not  the  clothes  of  a  gentleman^ 
so  I  can  feel  for  your  Cartouche.  So  now,  fare 
well,  and  be  a  good  child — and  forty  francs  the 
week  as  long  as  you  are  simply  Mademoiselle  Fifi. 
Do  you  understand?" 

"Yes,  Holy  Father,  and  I  can  not  thank  you 
enough,  and  I  am  the  happiest  creature  in  the 
world." 

And  then  Fifi  fell  on  her  knees,  and  received  a 
tender  blessing,  and  went  away,  thinking  with  pride 
and  joy  of  the  visit  she  was  to  make  after  she  was 
married  to  Cartouche. 

"I  know  the  Holy  Father  will  like  him,"  she 
thought,  as  she  tripped  along  the  grand  avenue 
toward  the  town.  "The  Holy  Father  is  kind  and 
simple  of  heart,  and  honest  and  brave,  and  so  is 
Cartouche,  and  each  will  know  this  of  the  other,  so 
how  can  they  help  being  satisfied  each  with  the 
other?" 

Thinking  these  thoughts  she  almost  walked  over 
Duvernet,  who  was  proceeding  in  the  same  direction.' 
217 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

Duvernet's  manner  had  undergone  a  complete 
change  in  the  last  half-hour,  and  he  spoke  to  Fifi 
with  an  offhandedness  which  took  no  account  of  her 
ruffled  feathers  when  he  addressed  her  by  her  first 
name. 

"Fifi,"  said  Duvernet,  "for  it  is  all  nonsense  to 
call  you  Mademoiselle  Chiaramonti  now — Fifi,  I 
say,  I  will  give  you  fifty  francs  the  week  on  the 
strength  of  having  drawn  the  first  prize  in  the  lot 
tery,  of  having  given  your  fortune  to  the  soldiers' 
orphans  and  of  being  thanked,  as  you  will  be,  by 
the  Emperor  and  Empress  in  person.  It  is  a  liberal 
offer.  No  other  manager  in  Paris  would  do  so 
well." 

"And  my  art?"  asked  Fifi,  grandly. 

"Oh,  yes,  your  art  is  well  enough,  as  long  as  I 
have  Cartouche  to  manage  you.  With  the  Pope's 
forty  francs  the  week  you  will  be  the  richest  woman 
in  our  profession  on  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine." 

Fifi  considered  a  while,  walking  briskly  along. 
Ninety  francs  the  week !  What  stupendous  wealth ! 
But  it  would  never  do  to  yield  at  once. 

"And  I  am  to  have  all  of  Julie  Campionet's  best 
parts?  And  you  are  to  be  on  my  side  in  all  my 
quarrels  with  Julie?" 

218 


THE    POPE    WINS 

"Certainly,"  replied  Duvernet.  "You  don't  sup 
pose  I  would  stand  on  a  little  thing  like  that?  Now, 
you  had  better  take  what  I  offer  you,  or  Julie  will 
certainly  spread  the  report  that  you  wished  to  come 
back  to  the  Imperial  Theater  and  I  would  not  let 
you." 

"Bring  the  contract  to  me  this  evening,"  replied 
Fifi. 

"And  to-morrow  it  is  to  be  published  in  the  news 
papers?" 

"Of  course.  In  all  the  newspapers.  But,  Mon 
sieur,  there  are  some  things  you  must  not  expect  of 
me  now  as  formerly,  such  as  constructing  togas 
for  you  out  of  my  white  petticoats,  and  making 
wigs  for  you  out  of  tow.  I  am  above  that  now." 

"So  I  see — for  the  present —  "  replied  Duvernet, 
laughing  disrespectfully,  "but  just  let  Julie  Campi- 
onet  try  her  hand  at  that  sort  of  thing  in  your 
place,  and  you  would  burst  if  you  did  not  outdo 
her.  Come,  here  is  the  diligence.  In  with  you." 

Fifi  got  back  to  her  old  quarters  in  time  to  pre 
pare  supper  again  for  Cartouche.  This  time  they 
had  cabbage-soup  and  a  bit  of  sausage. 

Poor  Cartouche,  who  had  alternated  between 
heaven  and  hell  ever  since  Fifi's  return,  was  in 
219 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

heaven,  sitting  opposite  to  her  at  the  rickety  table, 
and  eating  Fifi's  excellent  cabbage-soup.  She  her 
self  fully  appreciated  their  menu. 

"When  I  was  with  the  Bourcets  I  could  not  eat 
their  tasteless  messes,"  she  cried.  "No  garlic,  no 
cabbage,  very  few  onions — and  everything  sickly 
sweet.  No,  Cartouche,  one  must  live  as  one  has 
lived,  and  one  must  have  a  husband  who  likes  the 
same  things  one  likes,  so  that  is  why  I  am  marrying 
you  a  week  from  Thursday." 

"Fifi,"  said  Cartouche,  trying  to  be  stern, 
"haven't  I  told  you  to  put  that  silly  idea  out  of 
your  head?" 

"Yes,  but  I  haven't  though,  and  to-day  I  went 
to  Fontainebleau  to  see  the  Holy  Father,  and — now 
listen  to  reason,  Cartouche — he  told  me  to  marry 
you.  Do  you  understand?" 

This  was  the  first  Cartouche  had  heard  of  the 
visit  to  Fontainebleau.  Fifi  described  it  glibly,  and 
if  she  represented  the  Holy  Father  as  urging  and 
commanding  her  marriage  to  Cartouche  much  more 
strongly  than  was  actually  the  case,  it  must  be  set 
down  to  her  artistic  instinct  which  made  her  give 
the  scene  its  full  dramatic  value.  When  she  paused 
for  breath,  Cartouche  said,  glumly : 
220 


THE    POPE    WINS 

"But  the  Holy  Father  hasn't  seen  me  and  my 
stiff  leg  yet." 

"Oh,"  cried  Fifi,  "I  am  to  take  you  out  to  Fon- 
tainebleau  as  soon  as  we  are  married." 

"You  are  afraid  to  show  me  before  we  are  mar 
ried." 

"Not  in  the  least.  I  told  the  Holy  Father  that 
you  were  neither  young  nor  handsome ;  for  that 
matter,  the  Holy  Father  himself  is  neither  young 
nor  handsome.  But  I  am  glad  you  have  at  last 
agreed  that  we  are  to  be  married — not  that  it  would 
make  any  difference." 

"You  have  not  married  me  yet,"  Cartouche  weak 
ly  protested,  gazing  into  the  heaven  of  Fifi's  eyes, 
while  eating  her  delicious  cabbage-soup. 

"Have  you  no  respect  for  the  Holy  Father?" 
asked  Fifi,  indignantly. 

"Yes,  but  suppose  the  Holy  Father  to-day  had 
advised  you  to  marry  some  one — some  one  else — 
Louis  Bourcet,  for  example." 

"I  shouldn't  have  paid  the  least  attention  to  him ; 
but  it  is  your  duty,  Cartouche,  when  the  Holy 
Father  says  you  ought  to  marry  me  to  do  so  with 
out  grumbling." 

And  with  this  masterly  logic,  Fifi  helped  herself 

to  the  last  of  the  soup. 

221 


CHAPTER   XI 

BY  THE  EMPEROR'S  ORDER 

The  next  day  but  one,  the  mystery  was  solved 
of  the  old  lady  who  gave  the  ninety  thousand  francs 
to  the  soldiers'  orphans'  fund.  It  was  not  an  old 
lady  at  all,  but  the  young  and  pretty  actress,  Made 
moiselle  Fifi,  who  had  drawn  the  great  prize  in  the 
lottery.  She  had  temporarily  retired  from  the 
stage  of  the  Imperial  Theater,  in  the  street  of  the 
Black  Cat,  but  would  shortly  resume  her  place 
there  as  leading  lady.  So  it  was  printed  in  the 
newspapers,  and  known  in  the  salons  of  Paris. 

There  was  very  nearly  a  mob  in  the  street  of  the 
Black  Cat,  so  many  persons  were  drawn  by  curios 
ity  to  see  Fifi.  Fifi,  peeping  from  her  garret  win 
dow,  would  have  dearly  liked  to  exhibit  herself,  but 
Duvernet,  for  once  stern,  refused  to  let  her  show 
so  much  as  an  eyelash,  except  to  those  who  bought 
a  ticket  to  see  her  at  the  theater,  when  she  was  to 
appear  in  her  great  part  of  the  Roman  maiden  on 
the  Thursday  week,  the  very  day  she  had  fixed  upon 
to  marry  Cartouche. 

222 


BY    THE    EMPEROR'S    ORDER 

In  this  determination  to  keep  Fifi  in  seclusion 
until  the  night  of  her  reappearance  on  the  stage, 
Duvernet  was  backed  up  by  Cartouche,  who  re 
minded  Fifi  of  the  enormous  salary  she  was  re 
ceiving  of  fifty  francs  the  week.  He  had  no  ink 
ling  of  the  further  rise  in  her  fortunes  of  forty 
francs  the  week  from  the  Holy  Father. 

Meanwhile  rehearsals  were  actively  begun,  and 
Fifi  had  had  the  exquisite  joy  of  seeing  that  Julie 
Campionet  was  furiously  jealous  of  her.  Duvernet, 
in  spite  of  his  unceremonious  behavior  to  her  in  pri 
vate,  treated  her  at  rehearsals  with  a  respect  fitting 
the  place  she  held  on  the  programme  and  the  stu 
pendous  salary  she  received.  All  of  her  fellow  act 
ors  were  either  stand-offish  with  her  or  over-friend 
ly,  but  this,  Fifi  knew,  was  only  a  phase.  Cartouche 
alone  treated  her  as  he  had  always  done,  and  even 
scolded  her  sharply,  saying  that  in  three  months 
she  had  forgotten  what  it  had  taken  her  three  years 
to  learn.  But  this  was  hardly  exact,  for  Fifi,  be 
ing  a  natural  actress,  had  forgotten  very  little  and 
had  learned  a  great  deal  during  her  exile  from  the 
Imperial  Theater. 

On  the  morning  after  the  announcement  made  in 
the  newspapers  about  Fifi's  gift  a  great  clatter  was 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

heard  in  the  street  of  the  Black  Cat.  An  imperial 
courier  came  riding  to  Fifi's  door  and  handed  in  a 
letter  with  the  imperial  arms  and  seal.  It  was  a 
notification  that  the  next  day,  at  noon,  an  imperial 
carriage  would  be  sent  for  her  that  she  might  go 
to  the  Tuileries  and  be  thanked  personally  by  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  for  her  magnificent  generos 
ity  to  the  soldiers'  orphans. 

Fifi  turned  pale  as  she  read  this  letter.  She  did 
not  mind  the  Emperor,  but  the  Empress.  And 
what  should  she  wear? 

While  considering  these  momentous  questions, 
Duvernet  rushed  into  the  room.  He  had  seen  the 
courier  and  suspected  his  errand. 

Fifi,  with  blanched  lips,  told  him.  Duvernet 
was  nearly  mad  with  joy. 

"Oh,"  he  cried.  "If  I  was  not  already  married 
to  Julie  Campionet  and  three  other  women  I  would 
marry  you  this  moment,  Fifi." 

"Marry  me!"  cried  Fifi,  turning  crimson,  and 
finding  her  voice,  which  rose  with  every  word  she 
uttered.  "Marry  me!  You,  Duvernet!  Marry 
Mademoiselle  Josephine  Chiaramonti!  No!  A 
thousand  times  no!  Julie  Campionet  is  good 
enough  for  you." 


BY    THE    EMPEROR'S    ORDER 

"I  am  as  good  as  Cartouche,"  growled  Duvernet, 
stung  by  this  vicious  attack  on  himself  and  his 
wife. 

"Monsieur  Duvernet,"  screamed  Fifi,  stamping 
her  foot,  "if  you  wish  me  to  appear  at  the  Imperial 
Theater  a  week  from  Thursday  you  will  at  once 
admit  that  Julie  Campionet  is  good  enough  for  you, 
and  that  I — I  am  far  too  good  for  you — but  not 
too  good  for  Cartouche." 

Duvernet  hesitated,  bv.t  the  manager  in  him  came 
uppermost.  He  conceded  all  that  Fifi  claimed,  but 
on  returning  to  the  theater  cuffed  the  call-boy  un 
mercifully  by  way  of  reprisal  on  somebody,  after 
Fifi's  exasperating  behavior. 

That  night,  at  supper,  Cartouche  was  oppressed 
and  depressed  by  this  new  honor  awaiting  Fifi. 
Presently  he  said  to  her  seriously : 

"Fifi,  it's  out  of  the  question — your  marrying 
me.  Why,  you  might  marry  an  officer — who 
knows?  Now,  Fifi,  don't  be  a  fool  and  insist  on 
marrying  me." 

"I  won't  be  a  fool,"  answered  Fifi  promptly, 
"and  I  will  marry  you.     The  Holy  Father  told  me 
to,  and  I  expect  the  Emperor  will  do  the  same.   At 
all  events,  you,  too,  are  to  go  to  the  Tuileries." 
225 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"I !" 

Cartouche  fell  back  in  his  chair. 

"Certainly.  I  could  never  get  along  without 
you." 

"But  I  couldn't  go  in  the  coach  with  you." 

"No.  You  can  be  in  the  gardens,  though,  and 
if  the  Emperor  wants  you  he  can  send  for  you." 

Cartouche  in  the  end  concluded  he  might  as  well 
go,  not  that  he  expected  the  Emperor  to  send  for 
him,  but  simply  because  Fiii  wished  him  to  go.  And 
he  decided  a  very  important  point  for  Fifi — what 
she  should  wear. 

"Now,  don't  wear  any  of  your  wild  hats,  or  that 
yellow  gown,  which  can  be  heard  screaming  a  mile 
away.  Remember,  the  Emperor  is  not  a  Duvernet, 
and  the  Empress  is  not  Julie  Campionet.  Wear 
your  little  black  bonnet,  with  your  black  gown  and 
mantle,  and  you  will  look  like  what  you  are — my 
sweet  little  Fifi." 

This  was  the  first  word  of  open  love-making  into 
which  Cartouche  had  suffered  himself  to  be  be 
trayed,  and  as  soon  as  he  had  uttered  it  he  jumped 
up  from  the  supper  table  and  ran  to  his  own  gar 
ret  as  quickly  as  his  stiff  leg  would  allow.  Fifi 
caught  Toto  to  her  heart  in  lieu  of  Cartouche  and 
226 


BY    THE    EMPEROR'S    ORDER 


murmured,  "He  loves  me!    He  loves  me!    He  loves 


me! 


i" 


At  noon,  next  day,  a  splendid  imperial  carriage 
drove  into  the  street  of  the  Black  Cat  and  stopped 
before  Fifi's  door.  Fifi,  dressed  modestly  and  be 
comingly  in  black,  appeared.  She  could  not  forbear 
carrying  her  huge  muff,  but  as  it  was  the  fashion 
it  did  not  detract  from  the  propriety  of  her  ap 
pearance. 

The  street  was  full  when,  assisted  by  a  gorge 
ous  footman,  she  took  her  seat  in  the  car 
riage.  Duvernet  was  a  rapturous  spectator  of 
Fifi's  splendor,  and  she  had  the  ecstasy  of  feeling 
that  Julie  Campionet  was  watching  the  whole  mag 
nificent  event. 

She  sat  up  very  straigfH  as  she  drove  through 
the  bright  and  sunny  streets  toward  the  Tuileries. 
As  she  entered  the  great  gates  she  watched  for 
Cartouche,  who  was  to  be  there.  Yes,  there  he  was, 
looking  out  for  her.  Fifi's  heart  gave  a  great  throfc 
of  relief,  for  she  was  really  frightened  half  to 
death,  and  the  nearness  of  Cartouche  made  her  feel 
a  little  safer.  The  look  in  his  face  as  their  eyes 
met  was  full  of  encouragement — it  did  not  seem 
to  him  a  dreadful  thing  at  all  to  meet  the  Emperor. 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

This  courage  of  Fifi's  only  lasted  until  the  car 
riage  door  was  opened,  and  she  had  to  alight  and 
walk  an  interminable  distance  through  miles  of  gor 
geous  rooms,  of  mirrors,  of  paintings,  of  gilding, 
and,  worse  than  all,  in  the  company  of  the  very 
polite  old  gentleman-in-waiting  who  escorted  her. 

She  knew  not  how  she  found  herself  in  a  small 
boudoir,  and  presently  the  door  opened  and  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  entered,  and  at  the  first 
word  spoken  to  her  by  the  Emperor,  as  with  the 
Holy  Father,  fear  instantly  departed  from  her,  and 
it  seemed  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  for 
her  to  be  there. 

Fifi  made  a  very  pretty  bow  to  both  the  Emperor 
and  Empress.  The  Empress  seated  herself,  and 
her  kind  eyes,  her  soft  Creole  voice,  her  charming 
grace,  captivated  Fifi,  as  it  had  done  many  of  the 
greatest  of  the  earth.  But  when  the  Emperor 
spoke — ah,  Fifi  was  one  of  the  people,  after  all — 
and  like  the  old  moustaches  in  Cartouche's  regi 
ment,  she  would  have  died  for  the  Emperor  after 
having  once  seen  him.  He  said  to  her : 

"The  Empress  and  I  wish  to  thank  you  for  your 
splendid  gift  to  the  soldiers'  orphans,  Mademoiselle. 


BY    THE    EMPEROR'S    ORDER 

Was  it  not  jour  whole  fortune?  For  I  remember 
well  hearing  that  you  had  drawn  the  grand  prize 
in  the  lottery." 

"Yes,  Sire,"  replied  Fifi,  "but  I  am  still  well 
off." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  Mademoiselle." 

"Sire,  the  manager  of  the  Imperial  Theater  is  to 
give  me  fifty  francs  the  week,  and  the  Holy  Father, 
to  whom  my  grandfather  was  cousin,  is  to  give  me 
forty  francs  the  week  as  long  as  I  live;  that  is,  if 
I  do  not  put  it  on  the  bill-boards  that  I  am  Made 
moiselle  Chiaramonti,  granddaughter  of  the  Pope's 
cousin." 

"It  was  I  who  caused  that  relationship  to  be 
established,  after  having  heard  your  name,  the  eve 
ning  that  my  good  friend  Cartouche  invited  me  to 
see  you  act.  But  what  ingenious  person  was  it 
who  dreamed  of  putting  your  relationship  to  the 
Pope  on  the  bill-boards  ?" 

"I  and  our  manager,  Monsieur  Duvernet,  Sire. 
Monsieur  Duvernet  knows  how  to  advertise." 

The  Emperor  laughed  a  little. 

"I  should  think  so.  I  have  met  Monsieur  Duver 
net — the  same  evening,  Mademoiselle,  that  I  had 


229 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  act.  So  the  Holy 
Father  interfered  with  yours  and  Duvernet's  little 
plan— ha !  ha !" 

"Yes,  Sire.  First,  Monsieur  Duvernet  said  he 
would  give  me  twenty  francs  to  be  billed  as  the 
Pope's  cousin,  and  the  Holy  Father  said  he  would 
give  me  twenty-five  francs  to  be  billed  simply  as 
Mademoiselle  Fifi.  Then  Monsieur  Duvernet  said 
thirty  francs,  and  the  Holy  Father  said  thirty- 
five  ;  and  Monsieur  Duvernet  said  thirty-eight,  and 
the  Holy  Father  said  forty.  That  was  such  a  large 
sum,  Sire,  that  Monsieur  Duvernet  could  not  meet 
it." 

"And  what  does  our  friend  Cartouche  say  to 
this  ?  Cartouche,"  he  explained  to  the  Empress,  "is 
my  old  friend  of  Lodi,  the  only  man  who  crossed 
the  bridge  before  me,  and  he  came  to  see  me  and 
consulted  me  about  this  young  lady's  fortune." 
"Cartouche,  Sire,  does  not  know  it." 
"Why?    Have  you  fallen  out  with  Cartouche?" 
"Oh,  no,  Sire.   Cartouche  and  I  are  to  be  married 
a  week  from  Thursday,"  replied  Fifi,  smiling  and 
blushing. 

"Then  explain  why  he  does  not  know  about  the 


230 


BY    THE    EMPEROR'S    ORDER 

Pope's  forty  francs,  since  you  are  to  marry  him 
so  soon?" 

"Because,  Sire,  Cartouche  does  not  want  to 
marry  me — I  mean,  that  is,  he  thinks  he  is  not 
young  enough  or  rich  enough  or  well-born  enough 
for  me — which  is  all  nonsense,  Sire." 

"Yes — I  know  something  about  you  and  Car 
touche." 

"And  I  never  could  have  married  him  if  I  had 
not  got  rid  of  my  money.  But  I  am  afraid  if 
Cartouche  knows  of  my  forty  francs  the  week  he 
will  make  a  difficulty." 

"In  that  case  we  must  not  let  him  know  anything 
about  it.  But  I  was  told  by  my  arch-treasurer 
Lebrun  that  a  marriage  had  been  arranged  for  you 
with  a  young  advocate  here  whom  Lebrun  knows 
well,  by  name  Bourcet.  What  becomes  of  that?" 

Fifi  smiled  and  blushed  more  than  ever,  and  re 
mained  silent  until  the  Empress  said,  in  her  flute- 
like  voice : 

"Perhaps,  Mademoiselle,  you  could  not  love 
him." 

"Your  Majesty,  I  hated  him,"  answered  Fifi,  with 
the  greatest  earnestness.  "He  was  the  most  correct 


231 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

person  and  the  greatest  bore  in  the  universe.  Un 
like  Cartouche,  he  thought  himself  much  too  good 
for  me,  but  was  willing  to  take  me  on  account  of 
my  hundred  thousand  francs.  At  first  I  tried  to 
frighten  him  off." 

"How,  Mademoiselle?"  asked  the  Emperor,  now 
laughing  outright. 

"Sire,  by  —  by  —  buying  things.  Dreadful 
clothes,  and — and — monkeys,  but  I  was  afraid  of 
the  monkeys  and  would  not  keep  them — and  a  blue 
satin  bed  made  for  the  Empress — " 

"I  know  that  diabolical  bed — so  they  swindled 
you  into  buying  it  ?" 

"No,  Sire,  it  was  only  a  way  of  squandering 
money  and  frightening  that  ridiculous  Louis  Bour- 
cet.  And — I  made  love  to  him  very  outrageously 
— which  was  nearly  the  death  of  him.  Louis  Bour- 
cet  is  not  the  sort  of  a  man  to  be  first  across  the 
bridge  of  Lodi.  The  only  way  to  have  got  him 
across  would  have  been  to  carry  him.  But  in  spite 
of  all  I  could  do  he  would  have  married  me  if  I  had 
not  found  a  way  to  get  rid  of  my  money." 

"Tell  me  how  you  contrived  to  get  your  money  in 
your  own  hands  ?" 

Then  Fifi  told  about  putting  the  box  of  old  shoes 


BY   THE    EMPEROR'S    ORDER 

in  the  bank  and  sewing  the  money  up  in  the  mat- 
trees,  just  as  she  had  told  the  Pope,  and  both  the 
Emperor  and  the  Empress  laughed  aloud  at  it. 
And  Fifi  further  explained  how  Cartouche's  letter 
had  showed  her  the  way  to  make  a  good  use  of  her 
uncomfortable  fortune  instead  of  merely  throwing 
it  away. 

The  Empress  then  asked,  in  her  charming  man 
ner,  some  questions  about  Fifi's  life,  and  both  the 
Emperor  and  Empress  seemed  excessively  amused 
at  the  simplicity  of  Fifi's  answer. 

"I  shall  have  to  tell  Lebrun,  the  arch-treasurer, 
about  this,"  cried  the  Emperor;  "and  now,  what 
can  I  or  the  Empress  do  for  you?" 

Fifi  reflected  a  moment. 

"If  you  please,  Sire,"  she  replied  after  a  moment, 
"to  send  for  Cartouche — he  is  just  outside  in  the 
gardens — and  order  him  to  marry  me  a  week  from 
next  Thursday.  For,  if  he  should  happen  to  find 
out  that  I  have  forty  francs  the  week  as  long  as  I 
live,  there's  no  telling  what  he  will  do,  unless  your 
Majesty  gives  him  positive  orders." 

The  Emperor  rang,  and  his  aide  appearing,  he 
was  directed  to  find  the  fellow  named  Cartouche. 


233 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

"He  is  very  homely  and  has  a  stiff  leg,"  said 
Fifi,  by  way  of  description  of  her  lover. 

While  Cartouche  was  being  found,  the  Emperor, 
after  his  wont,  began  to  ask  Fifi  all  manner  of 
questions,  especially  about  the  Holy  Father,  and 
listened  attentively  to  her  replies.  His  only  com 
ment  was : 

"A  good  old  man,  a  dreamer,  who  lives  in  his 
affections." 

When  Cartouche  was  ushered  into  the  room  the 
Empress  spoke  to  him  with  the  greatest  kindness, 
but  the  Emperor,  frowning,  said : 

"Mademoiselle  Fifi  tells  me  she  has  a  mind  to 
marry  you  a  week  from  Thursday,  and  you  are 
hanging  back." 

"Sire,"  replied  Cartouche,  respectfully,  but  with 
out  the  least  fear,  "I  am  too  old  and  ugly  for  Fifi, 
and  I  have  a  stiff  leg.  Your  Majesty  knows  what 
I  say  is  true." 

"No,  I  do  not  know  it,  and  Cartouche,  obey  what 
I  say  to  you.  A  week  from  Thursday,  or  before, 
if  Mademoiselle  Fifi  requires,  you  are  to  be  ready 
to  marry  her,  and  if  you  balk  the  least  in  the  world 
I  shall  have  a  sergeant  and  a  file  of  soldiers  to 
persuade  you.  Do  you  understand?" 


BY    THE    EMPEROR'S    ORDER 

"Oh,  Sire,"  replied  Cartouche,  with  shining  eyes, 
"how  good  of  your  Majesty  to  command  me!  For, 
otherwise,  I  never  could  have  thought  it  anything 
but  wrong  to  tie  Fifi  to  me  for  life.  But  one  must 
obey  the  Emperor." 

"Yes,"  cried  Fifi,  quite  forgetting  herself  in  her 
joy,  "one  must  obey  the  Emperor." 

And  then  the  Emperor  kissed  Fifi  on  the  cheek, 
and  pulled  Cartouche's  ear,  saying  to  him : 

"You  mutinous  rascal,  you  would  disobey  your 
Emperor ;  but  remember  the  sergeant  and  the  file  of 
soldiers  are  ready  when  Mademoiselle  Fifi  calls  for 
them.  So,  good  by,  and  good  fortune  to  you  both, 
and  if  anything  befalls  you,  you  know  where  to 
find  your  Emperor." 

The  Empress  gave  Fifi  her  hand  to  kiss  and  said, 
smiling : 

"I  shall  not  forget  a  little  present  for  your  wed 
ding,"  and  Fifi  and  Cartouche  went  away,  the  two- 
happiest  creatures  in  Paris. 

Fifi  returned  in  the  imperial  carriage,  and  Car 
touche  returned  on  the  top  of  an  omnibus,  but  each 
of  them  was  in  a  heaven  of  his  own. 

Fifi  reached  home  first,  and  when  Cartouche  ar- 


235 


THE    FORTUNES    OF    FIFI 

time,  walked  to  the  mairie  and  then  to  the  parish 
church,  and  were  married  hard  and  fast.  From 
thence  they  went  to  a  cheap  cafe  to  breakfast,  and 
Duvernet,  in  honor  of  the  occasion,  had  a  two- 
franc  bouquet  of  violets  on  the  table.  All  of  the 
waiters  knew  that  two  of  the  party  were  bride  and 
groom,  but  Cartouche  was  so  solemn  and  silent,  and 
Duvernet  so  gay  and  talkative,  that  everybody  sup 
posed  Duvernet  the  happy  man  and  Cartouche  the 
disappointed  suitor. 

It  was  then  time  for  the  rehearsal,  which  lasted 
nearly  all  the  rest  of  the  day,  Cartouche  being  un 
usually  strict.  When  the  curtain  went  up  in  the 
evening  never  was  there  such  an  audience  or  so 
much  money  in  the  Imperial  Theater.  The  best 
seats  were  put  at  the  unprecedented  price  of  two 
francs  and  a  half,  and  Duvernet  gnashed  his  teeth 
that  he  had  not  made  them  three  francs,  so  great 
was  the  crowd.  The  play  was  the  famous  classical 
one  in  which  Duvernet  had  worn  the  toga  made  of 
Fifi's  white  petticoat.  This  time  he  had  a  beauti 
ful  toga,  bought  at  a  sale  of  third  and  fourth- 
hand  theatrical  wardrobes,  and  it  had  been  washed 
by  Julie  Campionet's  own  hands. 

Everybody  in  the  cast  made  a  success.  Even 
238 


BY    THE    EMPEROR'S    ORDER 

Cartouche  as  the  wounded  Roman  centurion  of  the 
Pretorian  Guard,  got  several  recalls,  and  he  was 
no  great  things  of  an  actor.  Duvernet  covered 
himself  with  glory,  but  all  paled  before  Fifi's  tri 
umph.  Never  was  there  such  a  thunder  of  ap 
plause,  such  a  tempest  of  curtain  calls,  such  a  storm 
of  bravos.  Fifi  palpitated  with  joy  and  pride. 

When  at  last  the  performance  was  over,  and  Car 
touche  and  Fifi  came  out  of  the  theater  into  the 
dark  street,  under  the  quiet  stars,  Fifi  said,  quite 
seriously : 

"Cartouche,  my  heart  is  troubled." 

"Why,  Fifi?" 

"Because  I  am  not  half  good  enough  for  you. 
I  am  only  Fifi — you  know  what  I  mean.  I  am 
ashamed  that  I  am  not  something  more  and  better 
than  merely  Fifi." 

And  Cartouche,  who  was  usually  the  most  mat 
ter-of-fact  fellow  alive,  replied  softly: 

"As  if  a  rose  should  be  ashamed  of  being  only  a 


rose  l 


i" 


BY 
MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEA  WELL 


FRANCEZKA 


'A  STORY  OF  YOUTH  AND 
SPLENDOR" 


ILLUSTRATED  BY 

HARRISON  FISHER 


